


Realms of Gods

by SpaceFirebender



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Eventual Romance, F/M, Found Family, Gay Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Thace/Ulaz (Voltron), Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Olympians - Freeform, Original Mythology, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Shiro (Voltron), Slow Burn, Trans Pidge | Katie Holt, Violence, Worldbuilding, themes of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 146,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceFirebender/pseuds/SpaceFirebender
Summary: The powerful and highly advanced Greek Underworld has been raging war towards all other realms of gods for over a millennium. However, in a telltale day, the King of the Underworld, Zarkon, tasks a nameless soldier with an unusual mission: Being an offering of peace, so the Underworld’s diplomats and others can negotiate a pact that could lead to an official peace treaty.Seeing himself being hand-picked for it, Keith has no idea why that was the case, and questions the Under-Lord’s true motives. However, in the hopes to pursue a better life, he agrees to participate in the mission. He is guided by Shiro, a former prisoner turned into an official, as they embark on a journey in an Overworldly realm ruled by Alfor’s successor, and Zeus’ granddaughter, Queen Allura.In the meantime, attending classes in said realm, Child of Hephaestus Hunk, the improbable child of Athena, Pidge, and Poseidon’s son, Lance, see their whole world changing as an Underworld’s soldier is forced to attend classes with them.It’s a rocky ride for all parts, until the prophetic day this group of gods learn that their destiny was to meet each other, so that brought together, they fight for something much larger than themselves.





	1. An Offering Of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 - Darkness
> 
> Hey guys, I'm new here (as a writer) and this is the first fanfiction I'm posting online - Ever. So, I'd appreciate kindness and support! Having said that, since you don’t know me yet, I suggest you read the information below before you choose to read this fic.
> 
> About Realms: 
> 
> \- This will be a really, REALLY long 3 Part story (I’m thinking it’ll have more than 30 chapters?), with lots of themes, plot and character arcs. I've started planning this story since s4 aired, and for characterization, I mostly inspired myself in season 1 or in season 3 for Lotor and his squad (when they are introduced in this story), as well as I’ll write these characters the way their new background, made for this story, affected them and their lives. But I do try my hardest to keep them in character.  
> \- I mostly ignore the later seasons, especially because a lot of this story was planned before them (and because I highkey really dislike them because of the way many issues were handled, like rep), but I will pick some things from them that goes well with this story, like characters.  
> \- As for tags, I’ll add characters and relationships as new characters are introduced, but expect, in Part 2, to see a lot of Lotor’s squad, as well as a (romantic) relationship blossoming from it – and maybe not the one you’re expecting. It’s def not straight, though.  
> \- I would like to emphasize that the Mythology is INNACURATE. I took a lot of liberties so it goes along with the worldbuilding for this fic, so that it makes sense for the plot and story. This happens in an alternative Universe, after all. Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all in the story.  
> \- I picked their godly parents/backgrounds according to the powers and arcs I wanted to give them, not personality.  
> \- Lastly, the Intro is written in first person because it’s being told by a character, however, the rest of the story will be in third person, with alternating povs.
> 
> Well, hope you guys enjoy it!

_Yet another reality._

_As many others, its world was different from yours. Its myths varying, its facts mirroring. Its relationships and people – a different variant from universe to universe._

_Earth - the planet of humans and several other creatures who they shared the land, skies and oceans with. The planet of many realms – or planes of existence – other than the Human Realm._

_Realms inhabited by gods, and many, many mythical creatures as well as mysterious beings._

_The old gods, some of them you might know, from your reality. Their names, their appearances, powers, and perhaps their personalities were similar as well. Maybe even their stories have a tint of similarity to the ones you know of them, too._

_They were the oldest gods to existence, the most powerful, the ones in charge. As their generation grew older, many other, lesser gods – millions – started to inhabit each and every realm – sometimes even creating new ones. Some were descendants of the old gods, others weren’t._

_In a period of time, the realms of gods started to appear alike the realm of humans: Bearing millions of beings walking around its lands._

_Balance, arguably the most important element that makes the worlds go forward, was not an unfamiliar theme in the older times. It was embraced, it was sought for. It was considered one of the highest virtues. A concept the old gods – whose jobs were to primarily take care of the planet – were trying to teach humans through various hints._

_Yet, with time, such concept was lost, as the connection between gods and humans._

_Many centuries ago, balance between light and darkness was broken, as Hades, the ruler of the Greek Underworld, was struck down by his own son, and successor, Prince Zarkon, who quickly became the Under-Lord._

_A shock to many, accepted by few._

_At the time, Zeus had already retired, leaving the throne of the Greek Overworld to his brightest child, Alfor._

**_My father._ **

_He took the burdening mantle of not only ruling over the Greek Overworld, but also the one in which he had to keep diplomacy between us and his former close friend, Zarkon – the new Under-Lord who, by the passing of each day, seemed to grow grimmer and grimmer._

_Alfor worked his hardest to keep peace between realms, and the balance of light and dark intact. In a last, desperate effort, Alfor tried to appeal to the Underworld’s empress, Honerva, to consider both helping the rest of the realms, and to help her husband understand the wrong-doings he was committing. However, when her light was needed most, it was clear it was giving out._

_War did not take much time to come to all godly realms._

_Though the Underworld’s units seemed to lack quantity, they did not lack power and might. In raid-like attacks, so fast the Overworld did not manage to foresee, they struck where it hurt us most._

_Our leaders. The old gods._

_Many died by Zarkon’s hands: Ares, Athena, Apollo… Even Zeus himself._

_And it wasn’t long… until Zarkon’s blade met Alfor’s heart._

_I was still young, bearing only seventeen centuries on my back, when I saw myself forced to step up and fill up my father’s place. I had to learn how to rule, and how to deal with various impending problems while still keeping my cool._

_I had to learn how to be a Queen._

_Now, a millennium later, the war still continues, the Underworld – very slowly – still taking various lands for themselves in their search for power._

_While the light grows dimmer, the darkness enlarges. Chaos is a constant in the world, especially in the realms of gods._

_Yet, we still fight. For a new chance._

_For a new beginning._

 

…

 

 

The Underworld.

In the midst of one of the main settlements of the Underworld, was a small arena. One where young soldiers would attend almost every day to perfect their battle skills.

It wasn’t too tall, nor had too many rows for seating. It was not too large, either. Just enough. Its stones were made of a dark color, a grey almost black. While some parts looked sharp, as thorns on a withered rose, others looked as they were simply from an ancient ruin. Crumbling to dust. Even though, it would never fall.

The atmosphere all around the arena, as well as in the entirety of the Underworld, was dark and grim. All around the skies was a sort of mist, not alike the bright one that would rise above some forests in the early hours on Earth. This was dark, twisting as a mix of black smoke and something slimy. It seemed, most times, as if it was alive. And the reason for that, was because said mist was mostly made of dark beings, as well as lost souls, that would never in a lifetime reincarnate.

Such fog made it harder for the inhabitants of the Underworld to see clearly. It could be complicated to see in the distance, something alike the usual fog on the Earth realm. There was no light source as the sun either, even though the skies weren’t completely deprived of light, but their grey was fleeting.

The most reliable light sources were subtle tones of purple or rotten wine red that would emerge from many irregular cracks on the ground.

The darkness, that mix of smoke and dark beings, was something… rather overwhelming, to outsiders. They would feel not only a sort of cold shiver running down their spine as they walked through it, but they’d also feel their extremities grow cold or a grim shift in their mood and emotions. Not the Underworld residents, though. They were used to it by now.

After all, that darkness was part of them, too.

The seats of the arena were empty.

The middle of it, however, was a different story. Nevertheless, this was an everyday sight for each of them. They would have trained here for centuries.

All of them already had their futures dictated. They’d become soldiers. Countless, faceless soldiers, fighting in the command of the Under-Lord himself. After all, lesser gods were plentiful, and were the best weapons under Zarkon’s command. A ruthless, powerful elite army.

As of now, three students took the ground of the arena, each taking a side, their positions almost transforming them in the vertices of a figurative triangle.

By the entry of the arena, stood their instructor. The tall, broad lady watched them with an unimpressed look, unfazed. After all, she had seen battles alike this, or even better, in her everyday life.

All the students were wearing armor. Shiny, black armor. And even if their outfits looked quite similar, there were also some obvious differences, adapted to each style of the combatants. However, in all uniforms, a breastplate, tight fitted, took over their torso. Sleeveless, as their arms were exposed.

A Greek-like armored skirt took over their thighs, and below, separated from the general uniform, each had armor that covered the front part of their lower legs, some attached to their sandals.

Two of the students were wearing shoulder pads. One of them had wrist armor as well. Another had none of those things, but had a hood over their head, covering their face in moody shades.

One of them, the broader, had almost all of their skin light grey, their eyes a piercing yellow. Their skin was rugged, scaly almost, and the only change in the grey were two purple slashes by their cheeks, looking as large claw marks rather than what they actually were: birth marks. They wore no helmet over their dark purple hair, which stuck up in the air as ears. Despite of those jarring features, they looked, overall, human, alike their peers.

This soldier in particular wielded two small twin axes.

Another had their skin completely purple, having a pattern in some parts of their body alike a tiger’s one, in black. Their eyes were completely black, as the darkness around them, and their short dark brown hair was taken over by a simple helmet, matching their armor. They wielded a shield and a long sword.

Lastly, the final one was the smallest of them. Their skin was… pale. Exactly alike a human’s. In fact, their features were the ones closest to a human’s compared to their peers.

After all, they were considered a ‘half-breed’ by their peers. Not half human, a demigod, no. They were full god, however, one of their parents was not from the Underworld.

This one was the one wearing the hood. As well as they had makeshift gloves made of dark bandages over both their hands, rising to the middle of their upper arm. Their only weapon was a smooth, obsidian-looking short sword, alike the ones used by Spartans in war. Its handle was also made of a dark, reflective metal.

In an instant, the third round of their battle started.

The grey skinned soldier immediately leapt in the air as the round began, both twin short axes risen with their arms, almost falling backwards, behind their head. As they fell, they brought down their axes right towards the soldier with purple skin, who automatically blocked the attack with their shield, the impact resulting in a dull ‘ _clank!_ ’.

Instantly after the blades landed on the shield, the defender pushed the shield forward, as a fast move to get their attacker away from them. A way of searching for space.

In the meantime, without giving the purple soldier any second to breathe, the other opponent came in from their right.

Short sword risen high, the _Hybrid_ almost landed their strike on the unsuspecting soldier but, in the last minute, they swept it away with an abrupt jerk of their long sword, sending him many steps back.

Instead of barging in again, however, the Hybrid stayed put. He watched the fight enroll in front of him with a wary gaze, as if observing his opponent’s fighting style and weaknesses.

Right after that, the purple soldier focused, again, on the one with the twin axes. Clutching their round shield tight to their forearm, the purple soldier ran towards their target, as they raised their long sword in the air to bring down on their opponent.

With a great deal of simplicity, the grey soldier immediately dodged the attack, as they stepped to their right. Immediately, they kicked the shield of the soldier in front of them, which sent the purple soldier fall some steps back.

Recovered, the purple soldier advanced as they brought their sword up horizontally, ready to send an attack, but their opponent quickly avoided it by beating the necks of their twin axes on the blade, smacking it down.

It was clear who was in an advantage in this fight, from a combat standpoint. The grey soldier was far more experienced in close-combat.

While the purple soldier retrieved their sword, without daring to give them a breath, the grey soldier advanced. In a frantic pace, they brought up their twin axes and beat them against the shield, one at a time.

And again. And again. And again.

With an annoyed grunt, the soldier under the shield dropped their sword on the ground. Next, they pointed their right hand towards the head of their opponent, who as still trying to bore a hole in their shield.

Dark matter started to materialize around the purple soldier’s extended hand, as well as many bits that came from within the soldier. Little slashes of dark matter started to appear more and more by their whole silhouette, lazily coming out of their shoulders, arms, torso and even thighs. The dark matter, it flowed like the ocean’s waves, if those were made of smoke and slime.

However, the focus of said energy was forward, in the single hand pointed to their opponent.

Without wasting another moment, the lazy twisting dark matter quickly started to rush towards the grey soldier’s head, all in a matter of seconds. As an effect of it, the soldier started to slow down with their axes as he was being hit by darkness, more and more, as their yellow eyes went wide, pupils small.

Dark matter going through an Underworld native couldn’t do much, as it was part of them. All the damage it could really do, was to disorient their target.

In the Overworld, the damage of this attack could be much greater. Depending on how intensely this power was to be used, it could even result on deadly consequences. However, down here, it could never harm one of its own.

Not too much.

It was simply used as a stun tactic. Such thing that could give its wielder a great advantage if said attack had landed.

As it had in this case.

The purple soldier simply needed to push their shield forward, making a clank sound as it hit against the metal armor of the now dazed grey soldier, and such impact made its target fall back on the ground, without any sort of resistance.

It was clear by the dimmer way the fallen soldier’s yellow eyes were shining, that the dark matter was still affecting them. Its darkness was clouding their mind.

Successful, the purple soldier picked up their sword from the ground and jerked their shield out of their forearm, making it hit the sandy ground. They walked over to the fallen soldier’s feet, while scanning them over, with their chin held high, and their dark eyes bearing a small glint of purple – a reflection of the torches around the arena.

 

This was it.

_Victory or Death._

No matter whether it was in the field of battle or simply in a training arena, a soldier who fell was simply viewed as a weakness. A rotten part of the army that should be weeded out before it affected any others. If they did not get back to their feet and fight, they did not deserve another chance.

From afar, with a grim look on her lime green eyes, the instructor lifted her chin as she watched the scene unfold. She did not move forward, nor seemed to even have thought of it. She would not even consider to intervene.

This wouldn’t be the first death in these arenas, and surely wouldn’t be the last.

Her job was not to stop any of this. Her job was not to coddle anybody. It was to train these young gods to become incredibly skilled fighters, and those who did not make the cut, were simply a waste of time.

With a shaky breath, the purple soldier raised their sword high, with both hands strongly gripping the handle of it. They kept it there, suspended in the air, hovering above the dazed soldier’s heaving chest. There was no doubt the blade would sink into the breastplate and take into their opponent’s godly flesh. All they needed to do, was to initiate the act.

The purple soldier closed their eyes shut as they inhaled a breath between their teeth. With creased dark eyebrows, trembling, they brought their hands slightly more backwards, and then, as they opened their eyes, they roared out a cry and proceeded to bring down the sharp dark grey blade on their victim.

Their war cry, however, was almost instantly cut off by a surprised pained grunt, which came from their own throat.

A muffled pain collided with their right side before the ground was swept off their feet. In a second, they realized they were airborne, and once they hit the grey sand, they rolled at least two or three more times before they stopped completely, chest to the ground.

With a strained grunt, as they felt bits of sand sinking against their skin, they placed their palms by the ground around their head, still having their sword on their right one, and lifted themself up. In the process of it, as they diverted their look to the previous point they were standing at, slightly to their right, they saw what had done this to them.

The other, almost forgotten opponent stood some steps away from the still fallen soldier, short obsidian-looking sword pointing down to the ground. Their darkened human-looking eyes were, however, focused on the purple soldier rather than the fallen one.

It was a clear invitation for a fight. And by all means, the purple soldier would take it any day.

They would never let such being defeat them.

They literally lunged themselves to their feet, as a furious growl escaped their mouth. The wrath of having their potential kill – and glory - taken from them was overwhelming, but also fueling. An emotional advantage, surely.

The darker their emotions were, after all, the better chances they had at outmatching their opponent’s power.

As the purple soldier rushed towards their opponent with their sword raised, the Hybrid was ready. At the right time, he ducked the attack as he rolled out of the way, to his left.

Accordingly, the purple soldier’s sight followed him, as they turned, too. They immediately rushed ahead and sent a strike with their sword forward, as an attempt to prick the Hybrid. However, he was faster, and with a jerk of his own sword, he repelled the attacker’s sword to his left, rather than letting it hit his stomach.

Taking advantage of the time his opponent took to recover, the Hybrid spun by his opponent’s left, and as he had his back turned to their side, he lifted up his right hand, still curled around the sword’s handle.

Right then, with his teeth bared, he brought his curled fist right towards the back of the purple soldier’s head.

As the tip of the handle of his sword hit the soldier’s helmet, they stumbled some steps forward, letting out a surprised cry. As their left hand roamed the impacted area, they glanced over their shoulder at the Hybrid, and this time, their dark eyes seemed, somehow, grimmer.

Their lips were moving, and the mumbled words that left them sounded no longer comprehensible. All the while, very slowly, bits of dark matter started to radiate out of their whole body, especially their shoulders.

It was clear they were fed up with this fight. Their combat skill was not better than the soldier they almost took out, and neither was matching up with the Hybrid’s own fighting. However, exactly for the same reason, they knew who they were fighting against.

_A Hybrid, half and half_.

Meaning, they only had half of the Underworld’s power, and with it, half of the resistance to it.

Their long sword would land no hit, the soldier was sure. The Hybrid was too fast, too fresh to the fight. However, their power, it was the key to win this match.

It was with that thought in mind that the purple soldier turned all the way towards their opponent, and in the motion, they threw their sword at the surprised Hybrid.

Easy as it could be, the Hybrid managed to duck, but he felt the rush of air as the sword sped over his hood.

Taking advantage of the Hybrid’s slight distraction, the purple soldier placed themself in a low fighting stance. One leg forward, the other backward. They leant their body slightly forward as well, and extended both their arms entirely towards the Hybrid.

The dark matter around their body started to drift again, as more came out of them, out of every tense muscle, including their stiff fingers and wide-open palms.

It took not only a second for the darkness to start pouring out of their body, and accordingly, it shifted forward, towards their hands, their palms and fingertips.

As the dark matter was being summoned in such large quantity, all around the soldier quiet whispers started to fill the air, until they became clear. No known language was spoken by them, only gibberish.

It took no time at all until the own darkness of the atmosphere of arena was stained by those whispers, as well.

Noticing what his opponent was doing, the Hybrid’s eyes went wide as he immediately juggled his sword to his left hand.

As quickly as he could, the Hybrid extended his right palm forward, towards his opponent. His own dark matter started to seep out of his skin almost instantly, in a desperate way, mimicking his emotion perfectly: The desperation of having to defend himself from such blow he was about to take.

So, in a rushed way, his darkness started to gather around his hand and run, the fastest it could, towards his opponent’s own blast.

All the while, he used his other hand, his useless hand, and his sword, as a sort of small, pathetic shield. After all, he had to see the general direction he was aiming at, as he couldn’t allow his opponent’s shadows to get in his face, nor his head.

If he allowed any of that, it’d be over for him.

Both darkness’ clashed in the middle, waves of smoke and dark beings intertwining each other, alike watercolor on a wet paper. Only more frantically rather than peacefully.

It took a little while, but it was easy to see who had the upper hand.

After all, the Hybrid could only use half of his body to summon shadows, while the purple soldier had the same power on every part of them.

The Hybrid grunted as he felt his darkness being overtaken, as he had his teeth gritted, showing slightly due to his trembling lips. He not only had to deal with the pressure of his opponent’s power pushing his, but he also had to be very careful as he used his own power.

Though it was his, it still felt as though it had been… borrowed.

Which was… pathetic.

He had trained his whole life to be able to match his peers. And yet, even after years of intensive training, he could only do so much. He only had half their power. No matter how much training he’d do, no matter how many hours he exhausted himself, nor how many times he was close to vanish into ashes, he just couldn’t keep up.

This was… too much for him.

Not that he’d ever admit that. Especially in such unforgiving realm.

The energy of his enemy’s dark beings was clear to him now, as he felt the waves of a static energy washing over him, over his exposed skin. He could see it getting close to his face, and he could feel it numbing his senses already as his mind was quickly turning into a dazed mess.

He shut his eyes close, eyebrows creased as the muscles on his forehead tightened.

It was already too late to stop the enemy dark matter from reaching him, now all he could do was to fight for control. If not, the dark matter would not only stun him, but, in a way, possess him, curse him.

He’d turn into a trembling mess, as a human who would have been possessed.

Another disadvantage of not being fully from the Underworld, he supposed, as this sort of attack could do more damage to him rather than just stun him.

So, he fought, and fought, as much as he could. He focused his mind on his objective, to survive, even if the chances were growing slim. He had made it this far; he had gone through far worse near-death experiences.

However, it seemed like those facts were just being thrown off a window.

Because in seconds, his own darkness gave out almost entirely, as he lost the one last string of control over his own mind.

His opponent’s dark matter rushed all over him then, as he fell on his knees, hands down to his sides. His now completely black eyes went wide, pupils thin, which were hard to distinguish from all the black. The dark matter surrounded him, enveloping him as it moved around almost like a tornado from the human realm.

The Hybrid closed his eyes, teeth gritted. He grunted as his eyebrows twitched, feeling cold sweats all over.

It was never his nature to give up. That was what had saved him countless times. That was why he had survived so far. He was not giving up.

Even if it felt so hopeless.

Because he knew that no matter what happened, he’d run out of energy eventually. He’d lose his final grasp on his own mind, and he’d feel the curse of his opponent’s darkness within him, killing him slowly as some sort of human poison would to humans.

There… _was_ a way for him to win this, but said way would also get him killed.

His other side.

However, such powers were forbidden. He had used them twice, out of distress and lack of restraint, and both times, that had gotten him a meeting with the Under-Lord himself, as well as severe punishments.

If there was a thing he knew, was that a third strike wouldn’t be forgiven.

So, he didn’t use it this time. Instead, he felt his fingers growing numb, as his cold hands felt as they were freezing. He started to hear the whispering in his own head, a final sign of the curse fluttering in, and at the same time, he couldn’t help to feel himself tremble and shake even more.

This was it for him… This was the end.

At least it’d be the end of a painful life.

 

_-“What is this?! Stop, soldiers! Immediately!”_

As that commanding and frantic voice echoed through the arena and the Hybrid’s ears, sounding, to him, as a distant voice, he felt the grasp of the curse leaving him. The tornado he was feeling constricting his body eased, until it was completely gone. Slowly but surely, he felt his mind regaining control, and finally, he was aware of the situation.

He was alive. Barely.

And once that realization hit him, he drew in a sudden and large chuck of air into his mouth, filling his lungs with life. In a second, he felt himself tumbling over, as his palms met the dark sand in an abrupt movement. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, eyes now open and wide.

The curse had been lifted, he realized. There was no permanent damage, only that his energy had been drained out.

That was good. A little rest would cure that.

In the meantime, to his left, the instructor turned a sharp glare towards the new god who had just walked in and interrupted the training.

–“How _dare you_ , Commander-“

The god immediately stopped her complaint with a sincere, respectful look from his glowing yellow eyes. –“Please, I do not mean to cause a racket. I’m here in the orders of the Under-Lord himself. He requested the immediate presence of Akira in his throne room.”- He finished as he pointed his hand towards the breathless soldier.

The Hybrid’s breaths came out more evenly by then, but once the Commander spoke, his eyes went wide, as he drew in a little sharp breath from his mouth.

That… that was his godly name.

And before the information that the Under-Lord wanted to see him, many questions started to arise in his mind. Like why did the Under-Lord called upon his presence? What had he done this time? Was it something negative, as usual?

With a little bit of an effort, he glanced from under his dark bangs towards the general direction of his instructor and the new presence. And once his now indigo eyes, which had gone back to normal, settled upon the new god, he recognized exactly who he was.

He was tall, as any older Galra. His skin was purple, not too light, not too dark, and in some ways, a little bit furry. His darker purple hair stuck up in the air mimicking animal ears, matching with his goatee. He was wearing a dark purple armor set, and the insignia on his breastplate clearly indicated his place on the ranks as a Commander.

-“Really…?”- The instructor inquired, slowly as she raised an eyebrow. She placed a hand on her waist, as she pointed towards Akira, who immediately schooled his gaze to meet the dark sand, avoiding hers. –“Him? _A Hybrid_?”

The Commander nodded. –“Those are the Under-Lord’s wishes.”- His eyes narrowed as he stoically observed her. –“Are you going to question his will?”

Faced with the question which contained a subtle threat in between the lines, the instructor furrowed her eyebrows. She peered at the arena, seeing the three students in the exact same spots they were left off, gaze fallen upon Akira. He was still dutifully looking to the ground beneath his palms rather than her eyes, which was smart, she noted. Any sort of look could have consequences.

-“No.”- She finally answered, eyes still stuck on the Hybrid.

-“Then dismiss your student,”- The commander began, as he took a step forward, placing both his hands on his back. –“so I can personally escort him to the Under-Lord.”

The instructor did not let her gaze fall even as the other god spoke. She drew in a firm inhale from her nose, calmly, before she raised her voice. –“ _Akira_ ,”- Her stern voice drew everybody’s attention to her. –“get out of there this _very instant_.”

Looking up at her, from his side, Akira gulped, but did as he was commanded. It took him a reasonable effort to get back to his feet, wobbling along the way. It was true he was no longer under the control of the dark matter, but he was still left shaken by it. His hands and feet were still cold, as he could hardly feel them.

But he managed, and once he was up, he started, on his own limping pace, to make his way towards the awaiting gods. Behind him, the fallen obsidian-looking sword vanished in a cloud of darkness.

Meanwhile, the other standing student let their shoulders slump, as well as their facial expression, in a much bummed out way.

–“ _Aww, man, are you kidding me?! I was winning!”_

The other fallen student/soldier lifted their head after a long while. The stun effects on them had been more severe compared to Akira due to how they were taken out unsuspecting, while Akira was already in a resisting mindset.

Either way, they simply lifted up their hand to show a thumbs up, a way of agreeing with their peer, or a way to show that they were okay, as they let a still dazed “ehh” escape their lips.

The other soldier responded by directing a glare towards the fallen.

As Akira reached the older gods, the Commander placed his left hand over Akira’s right shoulder and steadied him with a solid look.

Yep, Akira was right. This god was who he thought he was.

Thace.

After a second or two of looking over Akira, Thace’s gaze slightly narrowed, and then, he looked over to his right, to the instructor. –“Thank you, Ikra.”- He brought his right fist over his heart. –“Vrepit Sa.”

Ikra steeled him with a heavy, offensive look, but did not attack him, verbally nor physically. However, her gesture mimicking his was made in a sharper way, and her voice sounded edgier, rough as she restrained her irritation. –“ _Vrepit Sa_.”

Thace dutifully nodded before he turned himself and Akira around, towards the dark exit of the arena.

Both walked up the stairs in the almost complete dark corridor, having only a dim purple lighting to help their eyes make up the shape of where they stepped. Their vision was used to the darkness anyway, so even without much light, they’d still see fairly well.

And so, in silence they remained.

There was a tension in the air, one that Akira could feel in his bones, in his heart and mind. It was fairly obvious, just as well as how anxious he was feeling. Not many regular, faceless soldiers would have the ‘honor’ of standing before the Under-Lord, and most of the time, whenever they did, it was not good. So, he _did_ have all the reasons to feel uneasy.

With some little more steps, they left the archway of the arena and stepped into the world.

The sky was dark, as one of the worst cloudy days on earth. Consequently, everything around them was dark, too.

The buildings, little poor houses or shacks, streets, fields, forests… Everything was grim. Of course, there had to be lighting, and it came from some random thin cracks on the ground, oozing off a purple light. Some came from crystals, others from literal energy orbs that laid beneath the ground.

After a little while, both were walking on a side of a street, having some gods and creatures who also lived there pass them by.

The main street was not too crowded at the time, which was probably a good thing: The upcoming conversation would feel more private.

Akira kept his head low as he walked by Thace’s right. He was lost in thought, sign of that being the furrow of his eyebrows. Suddenly, however, he carefully lifted his gaze, just slightly, as he looked up at Thace from the side.

–“… So, what have I done this time?”

Hearing the dry tone coming from the young god, Thace did not respond by looking back at him. He kept his gaze forward, on the road, as he spoke. –“Nothing we’re aware of.”- He glanced at Akira, then. –“The Under-Lord simply requests your services.”

Said answer only made Akira frown. –“Me?!”- He inquired, voice pitched with some sort of an edge, a sort of rebellious nature the Galra never got to train out of the young god. –“What would he even want with a, with _a Hybrid_ , anyway?!”

Thace’s expression remained neutral as he looked back forward. –“You’ll find out when we get there.”- He paused as they kept walking in silence for a second, before he peered at Akira from the side, now with a mild kind look in his eyes. –“It’s nothing bad.”

In contrast, Akira simply scoffed, frowning as he looked forward. –“We’re talking about the same Under-Lord Zarkon, right?”- He peered at Thace with a lifted brow. –“The one who _killed_ his own father, Hades?”

-“And Zeus, do not forget.”- Thace added, matter-of-factly.

At that moment Akira crossed his arms as he buried his neck on his shoulders, looking almost as a child rather than a young adult god. –“How could I? That’s literally all they teach us in school.”

The death of the old gods. How the Under-Lord, after defeating his father, went on a killing spree. There was never a reason as to why such behavior suddenly came to Zarkon’s mind, but surely, that had costed way more than half of the lives of the old gods of the Olympus.

-“Alright, turn down the sassiness. That won’t be useful to you when you stand before him.”

Sighing, Akira let his head slightly fall, irritation evident on his features. –“You know, it would be easier to know what to say if I knew why I am going to ‘stand before him’.”- He grumbled.

Ever since Akira was a child, merely holding six centuries on his back, he had arrived to the Underworld. Well, he was dragged to it, rather. And the only person who even dared to care for him had been Thace.

In a certain way, Thace had been almost as a father to him. In a distant kind of way… Nonetheless, the value of the older god was tremendous to Akira.

However, sometimes… Thace could be quite cryptic about things. Which probably was good, to keep his prodigy in the dark about some things, as holding such knowledge could be dangerous. But it still didn’t erase the fact that, despite the good intentions, such secrecy had always been quite irritating for Akira and his curiosity. His temper, as well, wouldn’t really help him.

Regarding the young god’s protest, Thace simply sighed. –“Like I’ve said, he requests your assistance. There’s an important task he wants you to take.”- As they walked, Thace peered at Akira with a different expression on his face. Eyebrows lowered, eyes grimly glinting, the concern behind his look obvious. –“… This could be your chance.”- He said in a lower tone.

And Akira understood what he meant.

_Your chance to get a better life._

_Your chance to prove yourself._

Which was understandable. Akira was twenty-three centuries old, and he couldn’t just spend his whole life in the Galra barracks. His days would consist of combat training for hours and hours. In his breaks, there wasn’t much he could do, either.

He’d wander off the main village into the forests as he’d spectate the bizarre creatures he had seen in there. Other times, he’d bring a piece of paper and a charcoal stick, and he’d just draw them. That was probably the most entertaining thing he could do.

But besides that, his future, in the Underworld, did not seem bright. He was a simple faceless soldier, recruited to die in the name of the Under-Lord. And that’s what would happen. Because of his roots as well as his discipline, he could never really climb up the ranks. Maybe earn a lesser title, but that was about it.

So he did understand Thace’s point. He couldn’t live like this for eternity. Or until his last breath.

And with that thought in mind, Akira weakly furrowed his eyebrows as he lowered his head, letting his arms fall to his sides. –“Well…”- He started, with a low, almost tender voice. –“Let’s hope I don’t blow it.”

Thace spared him a look, a soft one, before he looked back forward and kept on walking.

 

It was only a matter of time until they arrived to the palace. The whole building was enormous, towers shooting up to the skies bearing various floors. All of it was made of the same black stone, looking as it would crumble to dust at any given moment. The shapes of it all, as well, were fairly irregular, mostly excessively sharp.

As both gods stepped into the large entrance to the hall, they saw many beings there.

Akira couldn’t stop noticing how some would lightly pause their conversation to subtly glance at them. Well, especially at him, since it was fairly rare to see a Hybrid, especially one setting foot on the imperial palace.

Although, he did recognize some faces as they walked by – some beings he had barely shared a word with, and the times he did, was just simply because he was at the right place at the right time, always in the company of Thace.

There was this god with a little white Mohawk, bearing sharp facial features, named Ulaz. He was probably the one god in this place – apart from Thace – who Akira was the most familiar with.

The god simply watched them with a neutral, serene gaze, and once his met Thace’s, both shared a nod. Which did not surprise Akira, as both older gods were quite close.

A few steps further ahead was this other god, one more intimidating and distant, stoic. Kolivan. He simply eyed them both with a stern gaze before he turned back around to resume his conversation with an unknown woman.

After the hall, the trip was a lot easier, and quieter. They took various corridors, and went up some stairs. The purple glowing crystals formed a line in the corners of each hallway, where the dark floor met the dark wall.

It was then that they arrived to a hallway they knew lead to the throne room, as its floor was covered by a purple long rug, ending by the large dark metal double door.

_This was it._

Thace suddenly stopped, some long steps away from the entry, and turned around to face Akira. –“You know what to do.”- It was clear it was a statement, not a question, but Akira still nodded in reassurance. –“Ready?”

Faced with the question, Akira closed his eyes briefly as he took a shaky deep breath. After, he looked up at the older god. –“I’m ready.”- His faint voice, however, might have hinted otherwise.

Nonetheless, Thace nodded, accepting the answer as good enough. –“Good luck.”

Both started to walk forward once more, and when they were close to the double doors, both automatically, magically, opened. Each sliding to each side, exposing a shining purple line of crystals where they once were.

And so, the throne room was unraveled.

The room was just as dark as any other part of the palace. Three walls were still in the same black stone, however, the one opposite to the double doors, behind the throne, was made of a dark grey metal, having sharp lines forming a complicated design. There were four columns, two on each side of the pathway right up to the throne itself. And on the ground, the stone had the same irregular cracks as all the Underworld had, emitting an ominous purple lighting.

Lastly, the throne itself, which was in an elevated point of the room, three steps high, was made of obsidian, taking an irregular shape.

There, the Under-Lord rested.

He was wearing a full battle armor, as per usual. It was alike the one Akira and his peers were wearing; however, it was bulkier, having more details. The armor itself had parts in a purple shiny metal, and some details drawn on the armor were highlighted in a rotten wine red. A large cape flowed down the throne, pinned to his shoulder by only the left side, in a color alike red wine.

His helmet, worn as if it were a crown, was huge. Its bulky sides came down to hide his jaw, as well as a sharp bit hid his nose, leaving his eyes, chin and mouth exposed. On top was a large crest, made of stiff plumes, going from the right to the left of the helmet, tilting down the sides as if it were falling. It was as tall as the helmet itself, and was colored black.

To his left, was standing a familiar face. The Witch, Haggar.

Unlike him, her attire was fairly strange, though nothing that wasn’t expected from someone alike her. Her purple robe, looking as old as time itself, took over most of her body, and some details were made in the same rotten gold as the Under-Lord’s outfit.

Her energy, it was something no one could ignore as they were near her. It was dark and haunting, as if all the negativity of the dark matter of the realm was concentrated on her fingertips.

Then, to the right, was an unfamiliar face.

It was a large god, in height and built. He was not alike anyone on the Underworld, as his skin was too human. He wore some sort of an old samurai armor, as it seemed, black on its fabric and dark grey on the armor plates themselves, some having some clearly painted slashes of light purple.

Full armor, unlike the Greek one, which covered his whole body with the exception of what _seemed_ to be his right arm. And his face, now, too, as he held his helmet under his arm.

Thace shared a look with Akira before he stepped into the room, and when Akira did so as well, the room doors suddenly closed behind them. Right after, Thace walked halfway through the path to the throne, came to a stop, and kneeled.

As he placed his fist over his heart, he lowered his head. –“Vrepit Sa, Under-Lord Zarkon. As promised, I’ve brought you Akira.”

Eyeing the god with a piercing yet calm yellow gaze, Zarkon nodded slowly.

It was then that Thace glanced to his right, to Akira, and then nodded to the floor before them, a gesture to let him know that he should probably do the same.

Reluctantly, Akira did so. He kneeled beside Thace and placed his fist over his heart, keeping his head low, seeing the black bangs falling over his sight.

–“… Vrepit Sa, Under-Lord Zarkon.”- He tried to keep his voice neutral and respectful, even though most of his mind was screaming for him to do otherwise. –“What can I…”- He licked his lips as he trailed off. He could try better. –“How _may_ I… aid you?”

Zarkon peered to his left, to the Witch.

Understanding the command, Haggar spoke for him.

–“You are required to perform a delicate mission.”- She said, in her raspy, strained voice. –“As you may know, the Underworld and the Overworld have been at war ever since the Under-Lord took down Zeus…”

Haggar paused as she closed her eyes and lightly lowered her head. It seemed as her eyebrows twitched as she took a small deep breath. –“Today…”- She hesitated a little longer before she opened her eyes and watched the Hybrid. –“… Today, we’re beginning to make amends.”

Thace, who was already on his feet, shared a look with Akira, who was still keeling.

And the latter, then, raised on his feet as well, as he gazed up at the witch with a suspicious yet surprised gaze. –“What kind of _‘amends’_ …?”

Suddenly, Zarkon’s slow deep and strained voice invaded the room. –“A pact of non-harm.”

Dutifully, Haggar proceeded to explain it. –“The pact will freeze the on-going war happening between realms. It won’t mean absolute peace, but it is a start to the end of the war.”

_End of the war?!?_

Why would the Underworld even stop the ongoing war? They raged war against all Overworldly realms for endless centuries, why stop now? There were plenty of Galra – tittle given to the gods who marched and fought under the Under-Lord’s command.

They could only be running short of supplies or energy.

Perhaps that was why they were purposing such offer, because it was convenient for them. To just freeze the war until they were stocked with supplies and ready to continue it when no one expected.

With a frown, Akira tried to search for the reasons behind Zarkon’s decision, wondering if this was all a trick and he was the victim of it. But in the end, he ignored such possibility, as he looked up at the Under-Lord with the same focused gaze.

–“Okay… So how am _I_ accounted into this?”

-“You are the first key.”- Haggar had said.

And Zarkon continued. -“You are part of the pact. As agreed between our diplomats and theirs, you shall spend a… a _provisional_ time in the Overworld.”

-“You will do everything they do, always being watched under careful eye, of course.”- Haggar united her hands, hiding them with the long and large sleeves of her robe. –“You will be the first proof of our good faith, the proof as to how we won’t attack the Overworld. As well as you shall vouch for the Underworld as you see fit.”

Akira took it all in before he subtly nodded to himself. –“Basically I’ll be a pawn.”

-“Someone must be.”- Zarkon said, his yellow eyes giving off a grimmer glint.

With furrowed eyebrows, Akira lifted his gaze up to the Under-Lord. –“And _why me_?”

He knew he was pushing it with that question. No one should ever question the Under-Lord’s decisions, as such thing could be punishable by death. Especially with a mere, replaceable soldier. However, that did not cross the mind of Akira, as he was too taken by his doubts, wondering exactly what he had questioned.

Why? Why him? He was a great fighter, but not the best fighter in the Underworld, he definitely wasn’t the best diplomat. So what compelled the Under-Lord to handpick him for this… this mission?

-“You are the one who has the best chance to better blend into the Overworld.”- Haggar supplied. –“The one who looks the most alike them. Perhaps, the one who _thinks_ the most alike them, too.”

Hearing the answer coming from the witch, Akira lowered his head as he furrowed his eyebrows. –“Oh…”- He said, faintly.

So that was it. A simple matter of luck. And even though he was grateful for this chance, this chance of getting a better life as Thace had implied, he was still not sure he could bear the weight of being the one responsible for the fate of so many realms, including his.

He was really not qualified for this… He was a soldier, not a talker.

-“Is it settled, then?”

Zarkon’s deep and slow voice interrupted his thoughts, making him look up at the Under-Lord, wearing a subtly big-eyed expression, lips slightly apart. Then, he creased his eyebrows as he peered at Thace, looking for any clue from the god about what to do in this situation.

Truth be told, he never thought he’d be going to the Overworld. Well, not in these circumstances, as he would probably go there to fight a battle in the future.

However, Akira never thought he’d be going there like this, especially doing something with such importance, with such impact on the fate of any godly realm.

If only the fates were still alive, he almost felt as though they would be having fun threading his life.

Of course, he knew he was basically a pawn in Zarkon’s game - whatever it was - and as such, he couldn’t really do anything other than playing under the lines. All he had to do was to do what his assignment was going to be, and he’d be good to go.

Theoretically.

But even taking that into consideration, it was still a high-stress situation, and even though he wouldn’t do much on his own, there was still a large burden of responsibility on his shoulders, one he was never used to have.

Once Thace locked his gaze with him, the older god had his eyebrows lowered considerably, yellow eyes tainted with a feeling close to concern. As any parent would have for their child, even if Akira wasn’t really his.

Nonetheless, Thace nodded subtly, giving the answer Akira needed to reassure his doubts.

Seeing it, the confirmation from Thace, Akira turned his look back to the spot in the purple carpet between his feet, where he focused his sharp gaze. In a second, he closed his eyes, facial features easing, and once he exhaled a long breath from his nose, he looked back up at the awaiting Under-Lord.

-“Okay…”- He faintly said. –“I’ll do it.”

The witch’s look seemed pleased due to the glint in her glowing eyes. -“Very well.”

Zarkon peered at her before he settled his sight back on the young god. -“At last, you shall use your other half in the Overworld.”

Such statement made a bewildered expression take over Akira’s face.

Meanwhile, the Under-Lord continued on. –“It will aid you to gain their trust.”- He lightly lowered his head, powerful eyes always locked on the younger god. –“I assume you know your other half.”

Automatically, as he heard the Under-Lord’s words, Akira raised his left forearm slightly up, to his waist, and observed it intently.

The black bandages rolled around his hand and forearm, used as some sort of makeshift gloves, did not cover up everything. By the gaps between the bandages, he could still see the intense live red lines marked on his arm.

A mark born with him, born with any others like him.

-“I do.”- He admitted, after a while, with a faint croak, eyes still on the red lines of his tattoo-like marking. –“Child of Dragons.”- He looked up at Zarkon.

_Dragon born._

Pleased, as it seemed, the Under-Lord nodded.

-“As you are aware,”- Haggar began. –“you have not yet trained your power, as it is forbidden to exercise foreign powers in the Underworld. However, you will need it now. As such, you’ll need someone of the same realm set to teach you how, as well as teach you the ways of the Overworld, so you shall fit in better.”

As she finished speaking, Zarkon pointed, with his hand, to his right, to the quiet stranger who watched the exchange neutrally yet attentively.

–“This is Kuro.”- Before Zarkon’s voice, the god stepped up and nodded at him. Zarkon’s gaze stayed on him for a second more before he turned back to Akira. –“He will be your new mentor and guide of the Overworld.”

Taking in this information, Akira glanced at the god, his new mentor it seemed, and nodded in acknowledgement. Understanding, Kuro nodded back, less subtly this time, since it seemed he was not as stiff when the Under-Lord’s gaze was not on him.

After that, Akira’s now focused sight fell back upon the Under-Lord. –“Well… when do I start?”

Zarkon’s answer was final. –“Now.”

-“You’ll have a brief time to get ready until you cross realms.”- Haggar took a hand out of her joined sleeves to point at the god across from the Under-Lord. –“Kuro will walk you through it.”

-“Now, you’re all dismissed.”- Zarkon finally declared.

And with such final tone from the Under-Lord, nobody dared to ask no other thing. With bows, first Thace, and then, reluctantly, Akira, both made their way to the exit of the room, as the double doors slid open on their own for them to cross.

In the meantime, Kuro hurried to walk down the stairs from the elevated part of the room, stopped to bow at Zarkon and Haggar, making the Galra gesture to them before he turned around and hurried to follow the other two. The doors slid shut behind him.

Further away from the door already, with his back turned to the stranger, Akira glanced at him.

He noticed Kuro, now, had turned to the side of the hallway, observing a banner that was stuck to the wall as he made his helmet disappear in his hands within a little rush of round purple and grey particles.

It was clear he was, in a way, trying to give privacy to both Akira and Thace for a while, which had been greatly appreciated.

Akira peered at Thace, to his left side, seeing that Thace was already quietly observing him, waiting for a response.

And as the reality of the situation finally hit Akira, as he had been mostly on autopilot for the whole meeting with Zarkon, panic invaded his indigo eyes as he grimaced. –“Was this the right decision…?”- He quietly wondered.

Thace’s expression, however, continued collected. –“For peace, and for your future, I’m sure it was.”- He lowered his eyebrows as he slightly lowered his chin. –“But know the dangers of your task. You won’t be welcome for a long time. Perhaps for an eternity.”

Nonetheless, it would still be better than living an eternity in a sea of whispering shadows and death.

Akira’s eyes kept observing the face of the older god before he dropped his gaze to the floor, eyebrows slightly furrowed. –“I guess you’re right…”

Such faint response made a soft yet sad look appear on Thace’s face. He reached for the young god and placed his right hand on Akira’s left shoulder. –“I wish you the best fortune, young god.”

And hearing the earnest tone coming from Thace, Akira couldn’t help it but to look up at the god and lightly, weakly, smile. –“Thank you. It was an honor to work with you for all these centuries.”

With a nod, Thace actually smiled, too. Just a little, just for less than a second, but he did. And after that, he removed his hand from Akira’s shoulder and stepped away. –“I’m sure you’ll make us proud.”- He waited a second too long observing Akira, before he lowered his gaze and turned around.

There was no other word spoken between them. Akira simply watched as Thace walked down the dark corridor, until he took a turn, and then that was it. The last time Akira had ever seen him. At least, for a long, long while.

Grimacing, Akira closed his eyes shut.

He was going to regret this.

_He was already regretting this._

What was he thinking? He couldn’t just do this all on his own. At least here, in the Underworld, he had Thace, the guy who willingly guided him through life, saved his neck so many times, vouched for him… He was sure he wouldn’t be existing if Thace hadn’t taken him under his wing.

The god was the only person he ever looked up to. Someone who helped him in so many dire situations. The god who saved his life and his well-being for so long now, all because he was supposedly a good friend of Akira’s mother.

And now… That was no more. Thace was gone, and Akira… he was left alone, again.

-“Hey…”

That quiet, yet soft and friendly voice snapped Akira from his hurrying thoughts. Surprised, he glanced over his right shoulder and there he saw the other god who had been considerate enough to let Akira and Thace share their last moment in peace.

Now that the god was getting closer, Akira could see him better. He was definitely older than Akira for some good centuries. A thing that would call upon anybody’s attention would be the mean scar across his nose, as well as a streak of white hair falling down his forehead, an obvious contrast with the short black hair on the rest of his head.

The kind smile the god wore gave away how the wrinkles by his eyes made him look older than he should. More exhausted. A veteran, as it seemed. He appeared to be someone who had gone through a lot, and had seen even more.

Once Kuro stood by Akira’s right, still wearing that kind smile on his face, he extended his flesh hand towards the young god. –“Pleasure to meet you, Akira. As you’ve heard, I’m Kuro.”

With a lost look on his face, Akira glanced at the awaiting gloved hand, but the purple glint to Kuro’s right called his attention. It was then that he took a better look at the other arm of the older god.

It was alike a regular arm, though its pieces were made of a smooth and shining completely black stone, connected all together by a calm yet strong long purple orb, seen only by the joints of the prosthetic.

Blinking, Akira forced himself to not look too much longer at the fake limb of the other god, and instead, he reluctantly took the awaiting hand with his, sharing a quick handshake before he hastily retrieved his hand for himself.

–“Godly name?”

-“Well, yes.”- Kuro smiled warmly. –“My personal name is Takashi Shirogane.”- He said as he placed his hands on his waist. –“Though, people call me Shiro.”- He chuckled. –“Well, usually Gods, not people.”

In response to the small joke, Akira tried to put on a smile, even though it looked weak, forced and strained.

Which Kuro – better yet, Shiro – noticed, making his smile subtly lessen. –“… Anyway, and what’s yours?”- As he asked, he made a gesture forward, a request for both of them to start walking, and so they did.

-“Keith.”- Akira answered, not taking his eyes off the path before him. –“Keith Kogane.”

In response, Shiro smiled kindly. –“It seems you’re not used to it. But keep in mind that in the Overworld, gods address each other by their personal names. Some have not yet earned their Godly name.”

-“I’m guess okay with that.”

-“Good.”- Shiro said, glancing at the younger god. –“Well, let’s get ready to cross realms then, shall we?”

 

 

…

 

 

The classroom of another realm.

Brightness, due not only to the white hues of the large room, completely made of a marble-like stone, but also due to the bright presence of the sun outside, made the atmosphere in the classroom feel quite light. Lighter than the Underworld would be. And could ever be.

Outside, the sun shined as in any other Overworld realm, casting its light upon the insanely white buildings, paths, statues and gardens. All of that was to be seen even in the classroom, from the three large windows to the left.

Overall, the classroom was quite well tidy, even if in some parts it seemed to be cluttered with stacked scrolls and some more classroom materials.

Finally, over the shiny cream, almost white, marble floors, were singular wooden tables set up as desks, as well as matching chairs. In front of all the rows, a slightly larger desk was leaned to the left wall, which was probably the place that looked the messiest in the entire classroom. Though the back, the storage place, also wasn’t the best.

All of the students were gods. From many, many different realms.

Some Greek, others Norse, Egyptian, and so on. All of these young gods were learning the history of each realm, knowing what happened in each other’s cultures. Learning to become better gods, mentally and physically. So that one day they could make something great, protect their homes, realms and even their subjects.

Well, if they one day gain any human following, that is. Because, now, they were just too young.

The diversity was quite noticeable as well, due to how all of them could simply wear their usual outfits, their cultural clothes, rather than being forced into a standard uniform. Because of that, there were students using literal battle armor to class, and no one to bat an eye. Which was alright, as long as they did not cause any racket.

In front of the class, the teacher was leaning in front of his desk, delving well into the lesson. This morning, he was rambling about the Norse realm, more specifically, the Valkyrie order.

Of course that, due to such thing, the Norse descendants seemed to be quite thrilled. Some because they desired to know more, even if they already knew it by heart, but maybe there was something that would be mentioned they haven’t heard before. Others simply felt closer to home hearing about such subject.

Some other students were also paying at least _some_ attention, while others… Well…

It was, by no means, that their teacher wasn’t captivating. Truth be told, Coran was the opposite of the definition of ‘boring’. However, there were other matters flooding some students’ minds.

One of the students in the back row groaned, not too loudly to not capture unwanted attention, but enough to get his point across. He had his head laid on his right fist, and on his other hand, he had a magically always inky quill, which he used to lazily scribble on his open scroll.

Suddenly, however, with a flick of his fingers, the quill vanished, leaving only tiny subtle bits of frost dusting off in the air in its place. The same happened with the scroll. And after that, the student dropped his arms, and then laid his head on them, completely hiding his face on them.

He was wearing a white, Greek-like tunic today, showing off his brown skin, well highlighted by the sunrays seeping through the windows. On his arms, little bits of his darker brown hair laid, lazily.

Truth be told, Lance, being only twenty-two centuries old, shouldn’t be appearing this… Well, tired.

And his friends noticed.

To his left, Hunk leaned towards his table, slowly, and in the same manner, with pursed lips, he lifted a questioning eyebrow. All the while, Lance kept his head still buried on his arms, not ever showing his face, even though it was obvious he had noticed his friend’s attention.

At the same time, Pidge did the same thing on the other side.

After some seconds of observing their friend, Pidge and Hunk shared a look, as they had a sort of a silent exchange. After making some faces at each other, as if they were sharing a silent argument, Hunk shrugged and slowly reached his index finger towards Lance, ending up poking him gently on the shoulder.

As he retreated his finger, seeing no reaction, the look on Hunk’s face seemed even more suspicious. And concerned.

–“Uhh, buddy…?”- He decided to ask. –“You okay, there?”

Lance kept his head down, but this time he did acknowledge his best friend by simply grunting. Which made Hunk and Pidge share another look, and delve into another silent argument.

That was, before Pidge’s intuitive eyes fell upon Lance, and even without seeing his face, she already knew what was going on.

–“… I can’t believe it-”- She pointed her hand towards him, sounding mildly aggravated. –“He’s freaking _tired_.”

Such sort of statement made Hunk’s eyes go wide, and then, almost immediately, he furrowed his eyebrows. –“What? Gods don’t get tired easily, though? Only when we need to restore energy because we’ve-”- He kept on slowing down his pace until realization hit him, making his brown eyes widen. –“Ohh…”

Despite of how Hunk looked, Pidge did not seem surprised. –“Yep. He’s been jumping realms again…”

Finally, Lance looked up at them, by only lifting his head so his eyes were visible, and only so he could glare weakly at his friends. –“I don’t need you guys to scold me right now.”- Even though his statement should have been taken seriously, his muffled voice, due to how his mouth was still hidden by his arms, seemed quite funny to his friends.

However, they chose to not pay attention to that.

-“Lance,”- Hunk started. –“we get it. You miss your family.”- He placed his right elbow on top of his table and pointed his hand at his friend. –“That’s completely understandable.”

Pidge, however, did not seem as casual as Hunk did. -“What’s _not_ understandable is that you sneak out at least three times a week!”- She carefully lowered her voice, but still gestured sharply towards her still quite sleep deprived friend. –“That’s dangerous. What if you come across, I don’t know, a Galra? Or a dangerous creature? What if you warp to the wrong realm?”

Lance observed her for a second too long after she spoke, simply blinking, trying to assimilate what she had just said. In his defense, it was harder to process things when tired. After, he simply sighed, resisting the temptation to yawn at the same time.

–“I know what I’m doing.”- His voice was low, but confident in his words. After all, he had his way home drilled into his mind. Into his essence. He wouldn’t just get lost. –“Besides, pretty sure my dad would take care of it.”- He added as he rested his cheek on his right fist again.

And his father would, as he had the means and power to do so.

Poseidon, one of the only surviving old gods.

Meanwhile, Hunk had that same look on his face, the one that seemed to be a mix of suspicion and surprise. –“Wait, your dad knows you’ve been sneaking out..?”

Lance simply raised a brow at him. –“Pretty sure he’s aware of everything that happens in the Ocean Realm. Even by the beaches.”

That only made Hunk look more alarmed. –“And he _lets_ you?!”

-“Not a big deal.”- Lance said, shrugging casually. –“He says it’s good I don’t keep myself away from our ocean for too long. Something about not forgetting who I am and _bla, bla, bla_. Besides, it’s not like I don’t like it. You guys know how I love to spend a good day by the ocean.”

Hunk observed him for a little while, with the same raised eyebrow, and then crossed his arms, looking forward as he buried his neck on his shoulders. –“ _Oh, just you wait until you get ambushed by literally any scary creature...”-_ His rushed sentence was spoken in a low tone, but the others heard it, as it had been intentional.

Regarding the pettiness, Pidge directed a questioning look at him. –“Hunk?!”

Hearing that, Hunk glanced at her, too, with a defensive tone. –“What? It’s true! It’s dangerous! You’ve said it, too!”

And maybe Hunk had spoken in a louder tone than he should have, because right then, Coran’s focus settled upon all of them, as he stopped the lesson.

–“Young students…”- He started as he twirled his mustache and subtly narrowed his eyes at them. –“is everything alright back there?”

Upon being caught, all three gods went big eyed, looking panicked as if they were mice caught in a trap.

For some long seconds, none of them spoke. But then, out of the three, Lance was the one to speak up.

–“Uhh,”- He rubbed the back of his neck as he extended the word, searching for the right thing to answer. –“everything’s fine, Coran!”- He did notice how his voice went higher pitched than normal, making a sheepish smile appear on his face as he quickly put his hands back on the table, nervously tapping it. –“Sorry…”

Before such… well, apology, Coran hummed as he narrowed his eyes even more, still twisting his mustache. After a little second, he extended one end of his mustache a little longer, held it for a little, and then let go of it.

-“Alright… I’ll turn a blind eye this time.”- As he spoke, with his usual lively voice, he winked, having that same, friendly smile back on his lips. “Anyhow, as I was saying,”

Just like that, Coran settled back into his lesson, and the attention of the whole class also dispersed from the trio back to Coran’s words, or their scrolls, or whatever else some were using to distract themselves.

And as for the trio, they simply shared some awkward looks and silently agreed to not dare to chat amongst themselves again during this one class.

 

When an ominous sounding bell rang, sounding distant as if it was in another realm, Coran dismissed them, as it was a regular mark to end the class.

Acting upon it, some students literally launched themselves off their chairs and onto the archway - the exit of the room. Others, acting in a more civil way, waited for the cluster of people to shudder out of the archway. Even though it was lunch time - hence why so many were hurrying - there was food and place for everybody.

Gods, alike humans, did eat, even though theirs were considered ‘godly foods’. Never ending, no crop needed to be harvested nor an animal to be harmed. However, gods could not die from starvation alike humans could, but food would restore their energy by a small amount. Plus, it was simply tradition to eat at certain hours.

 It was, to gods on the Overworld, more like a social event than a pure act for survival.

Besides, the energy the food would provide would help the gods on the afternoon classes, the arena class.

Being in the back of the classroom, the trio let most of their classmates leave so they wouldn’t get in the middle of the mess. After they got ready to leave, they walked over to the front of the classroom and said their farewells to Coran, for the day.

It was quite impressive and adorable how the trio and Coran had such a close bond compared to the other students. It was no lie, nor unnoticeable, how the god liked these three younglings like if they were related to him. And maybe, out of the three, he always had a softer spot for Lance in his heart.

After that, all three left the classroom and came to a hallway that was covered over them, but to their left, on the opposite side of their classroom’s wall, there were only circular columns rather than another wall. Beyond it, there was a small step, leading to a huge patio, which was filled with bits of large gardens, statues and, even in the middle, a large fountain. All around the patio was the rest of the building, taking a ‘U’ shape.

For now, the trio was heading to its exit, to another place in the campus – the cafeteria. Lance was in the middle, having Hunk to his left and Pidge to his right, walking along the wall.

-“Oh yeah,”- Hunk spoke, out of a whim. –“I just remembered, fighting class is cancelled today, right?”- He asked as he peered at his friends.

-“Yep.”- Answered Lance, popping the ‘p’. –“I guess everybody is gonna be on high alert with that important thing Allura has to attend.”- It was noticeable how once he spoke the last part of his sentence, his eyebrows subtly furrowed in a grim tone.

Meanwhile, Pidge glanced up at him with a raised brow. –“You mean that rumor that a god from the Underworld will be a new student?”

-“Yeah…”- Hunk frowned as he kept on walking, crossing his arms around his chest if only for a little bit. –“I’ve heard they’re Galra, too.”

Hearing that, Lance eyed him with a confused expression. –“Hold up,”- He held a hand towards Hunk. –“what’s even the difference?”

Before Hunk could answer, however, Pidge cared to clarify it. –“Everybody who lives there are considered citizens of the Underworld, while Galra are more like,”- She wiggled her hand in the air as the boys watched. –“part of the army.”

While enlightenment flashed across Lance’s expression, Hunk’s seemed more as if Pidge had put to words what he was about to. And so, as Hunk pointed a hand towards Pidge, he cared to sum up her point.

–“Like, the beings who are loyal to the Under-Lord and fight for him.”

Lance, then, glanced at his best friend, as his eyebrows lifted. –“Oh…”- And then, he subtly lowered his eyebrows, looking a little thoughtful. –“Fun…”

To his side, he could hear Hunk’s ‘mhmm’ and the pettiness already behind it. –“Whoever they are and whatever they’re planning with all this, they better watch out.”- As he said the last part, he slashed his hand in the air, strengthening his statement.

Hearing that, Pidge peered up at her big friend with a focused and intuitive gaze. –“You thinking there’s more to it than this sudden non-harm pact?”

-“I mean, seriously?”- His voice pretty much gave away his answer. –“Under-Lord Zarkon taking the first step to end the war in a peaceful way? The same one who wiped out more than _half_ of the Olympus? Yeah, right.”

Lance had been observing Hunk as the guy spoke, and once he finished, Lance’s gaze also seemed quite focused and thoughtful, on his own way. –“Makes sense…”- He quietly observed.

-“Guys, honestly…”- Pidge’s casual and relaxed voice captured the attention of the other two. –“Whoever is coming here from the Underworld is a student, too. What can they even do?”- She inquired as she extended both her forearms to the side. –“If they’d attempt anything, they’d die. You don’t think Allura wouldn’t send them to oblivion?”

-“I don’t know…”- Hunk slowly admitted as a frown appeared on his features. –“I still don’t trust this.”

-“We all don’t trust this.”- Lance cared to emphasize. –“I mean, have you guys seen Allura? She’s been with a scowl on her face for the whole week.”

Pidge nodded, confirming, before she pointed at her friends. -“Yeah, don’t get on her way any time soon.”

Lance raised his index finger and slightly tilted it towards her, quickly. –“I second that. Believe me,”- He placed a hand over his heart. –“I learned the hard way.”

For an instant, confusion flooded Hunk’s expression, before realization hit him. –“Oh, like when she made you scrub the lunch dishes for the entire afternoon just because you said, and I quote, “Allura, that face is too beautiful for you to be scowling all the time”?”

-“To be fair, that was kinda douchy.”

Hearing his friend’s comments, Lance sighed as he let his shoulders slump. –“Okay, I admit it, it was unfortunate of me to say that, but still!”- He extended both his forearms to the sides, with his palms to the sky, as an exasperated expression took over his face. –“I thought she’d make a lightning bolt fall on my head or something because of the way she just _glared_ at me.”

Such thing made Pidge slyly smirk, as a mischievous glint was hidden behind her glasses’ lenses. –“That’d be interesting to see…”

Before the comment, Hunk crossed his arms as he frowned, and looked at his smaller friend with a lecturing look. –“Pidge…”

Hearing her name being spoken that way, Pidge simply shrugged nonchalantly as she eyed Hunk. –“What? It’s for science.”

-“Yeah…”- Lance started as he eyed his gremlin friend from the side, with an unamused look. –“no thanks. Anyway, so what are we even doing this afternoon?”- He looked around. –“I don’t really feel like being around the main campus…”

-“Lance.”- Pidge started, with a serious look on her face now, mirroring the tone of her voice. –“We’re _not_ jumping realms.”

He crossed his arms as he buried his neck on his shoulders. –“I wasn’t asking you to.”- His previous little glare, however, melted into something relaxed again. –“But maybe we could spend the afternoon on the beach?”- He looked around his friends. –“It’s not like back at home, but it’s still something.”

The way Hunk beamed pretty much gave his answer away. –“Oh, I could prepare some snacks! Hmm, how about-”

While Hunk seemed to delve into his new-found dilemma to himself, Pidge spoke up. –“I could just chill in the shade and read some scrolls...”

Such statement made Lance amusedly scoff, as a grin took over his face. –“Typical child of Athena.”

It was actually funny to think how such a gremlin child could possibly be related to such ethereal and respectful being as Athena. She acted more as if she were a Hermes child, a true trickster. Yet again, Lance supposed, not every child is alike their parents. They could even come to be exact opposite.

He knew that well himself.

In the meantime, Pidge looked up at him with an unimpressed look. –“What? _Jealous_?”

The grin on Lance’s face seemed to only grow smugger. -“Tsc,”- He brought his hand up to his chest and delicately placed his fingertips over his heart. –“you’re talking to a child of Poseidon who is good looking enough to pass by as a child of _Aphrodite_.”- He confidently placed his hands on his waist. –“Pretty sure I’m not jealous, smarty-pants.”

With her arms crossed, Pidge eyed him with the same unimpressed gaze. –“Whatever you say, fish tails.”- And then, for a split second, a mischievous grin took over her lips, before she started to run.

As Lance lifted his head to see her go, he wore a quite offended look on his face, gasping loudly. –“Just because I’m son of Poseidon doesn’t mean I’m a fish?!”

And then, just like that, he started to run after her as he made wide gestures, making everybody else on the hallway stop to look at the laughing gremlin child, and Lance running after her.

 –“Pidge!! _Pidge come back here_!”

Left behind, Hunk sighed tiredly. –“Guys, don’t _run in the hallways_!!!”-

And just like that, Hunk started to very quickly _walk_ after the two, definitely not in a running pace.

Maybe.

 

 

…

 

 

In the highest point of the academy’s realm, was a large, purely white palace. Its architecture was a mix of classical Greek architecture, with the arches and columns and marbles, with something out of this world. Sharp and shiny, alike dragon scales, or crystals. Stones looking as a mix of marble and white crystals were most of the walls of it, taking into twists and turns, balanced but not symmetric.

Some steps below the palace, after a grand stairway, on the outside, were the immense gardens. Overgrown greenery grew all along its dirt patches, as well as flowers of all colors and types. The white paths that divided each garden were as pristine as they could be, like if no one has ever walked over it. As well as the many statues of gods on each centerpiece looked brand new, no crack on its rock.

To the far right, considering the stairway of the palace into the gardens, far, far way, was an oracle risen up from all the controlled greenery. Its shape was a perfect circle, all around it having columns, connected amongst each other by a circle on top. There was, however, no ceiling nor roof. Only a floor.

Inside it, the sun rays lightened all the white, making the room appear even brighter. The soft blue hues in the background, of the sky, made the atmosphere on the whole room appear even more serene.

There was not much in the oracle itself, inside, rather than just a desk, with two plants in vases to each side. The desk itself was made of a material alike metal and plastic, also made in white, taking sharp, stylized shapes.

Finally, on top of it were many scrolls, and on the large chair by it, already reading halfway through a scroll, sat a god.

Or, rather, a goddess.

Suddenly, interrupting all the quietness, a god hurriedly ran up the stairs into the room, and when the goddess slowly took her gaze off the scroll on her hands, she saw Coran catching his breath as he struggled to smile at her due to all his exhaustion.

And taking in the questioning blue eyes on him, Coran spoke up. –“Allura?”

Reacting to it, a smile appeared on the queen’s expression as she made a move place down the scroll on her desk. –“Good afternoon, Coran.”- She said as she settled herself back on her chair, as she placed her elbows on each arm of the chair and united her hands in front of herself. –“Is everything alright?”

Coran simply waved a hand up and down at her as he briefly closed his eyes. –“Oh, yes. I just came here to check up on you.”- As he lowered his eyebrows, it was easy to notice the clear concern on his eyes. –“I… haven’t seen you at lunch.”

Allura steeled her gaze on him for some little seconds longer before she gave in and sighed, showing a little more how tired she felt with everything. –“I’ve got a lot to take care of before this afternoon’s…”- She slowly flicked her gaze to the side. –“meeting…”

Such statement only made Coran furrow his eyebrows. –“Still quite antsy about this whole ordeal of finally accepting a student from the Underworld?”- He guessed, in a quiet, sincere voice.

-“Of course, I am, Coran!”

As Allura spoke and looked back at her advisor with raging blue eyes, as distant thunder crackled in the background, she saw the way he had flinched at her raised voice and mild ire. Which made her sigh as she settled back on her chair, less stiff, and then, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

–“Those _monsters_ have been raging war against all the Overworldly realms for centuries.”- She lowered her hand and opened her eyes to look back at Coran with a steady gaze. –“They have murdered more than half of the original Olympus… and my father.”

It was hard for Coran to miss how Allura’s voice wobbled at the last part of her sentence, when she brought up her father. And just after, she placed her hand over her forehead and started to gently rub her hand against it, to calm her temper and nerves, as she closed her eyes.

Such thing only made Coran’s face drop. –“Please, my queen, I am not here to insult you.”- His voice, too, was as quiet as it could be, and tender. –“You do know very well my feelings towards the death of your father as well…”

Once Coran spoke, Allura looked up at him and when she actually saw the honest look on his face, she furrowed her eyebrows gently. –“I know, Coran…”- She admitted as she looked away, placing her hand back on the chair’s arm. –“I’m sorry. It’s just that… there’s a lot in my mind as of now… I must make sure everybody is safe around this…”- Her expression went grim, then. –“this _Galra_ …”

As she trailed off, Coran kept himself in silence for a little, as he took in the information, before he spoke up again.

–“I understand your concern, it’s one that we both share. But keep in mind that this Galra we’re accepting into our realm is young.”- He noticed how Allura looked up at him. –“He’s a young adult alike our eldest students. He’s _not Zarkon_.”- Right then, Coran shrugged, his tone loosening a little on the seriousness. –“And besides, he will have a god from the Eastern Realms to guide him through and keep an eye on him.”

However, a defensive expression already took over Allura’s features. -“No matter, Coran. We must keep our guard high.”

-“But we cannot be paranoid, either.”- Coran saw that as he insisted, Allura looked away with an unpleased frown, which made his expression fall. –“Allura, may I remind you why you accepted this pact yourself?”

Such question made Allura slowly glance at him, and as she looked him in the eye with a strong gaze, Coran thought she was about to shut down his question. But, instead, her expression softened to something close to melancholy.

-“… To spare innocent lives from dying from this war almost every day.”

Regarding the tender and sincere answer, Coran gently nodded. –“Exactly.”- His voice, too, mirrored hers. –“We’re doing this for peace. And for our people. We cannot back down now. We must welcome this new student with open arms. Of course, we’ll have to have some precautions regarding him, but we cannot alienate this fellow either. That would only weaken the efficiency of this new pact and lessen the possibility of an actual peace treaty to be signed.”

For some seconds longer, Allura observed Coran with the same expression on her face, before she sighed and looked down at her desk, to the still open scroll she once had in her hands.

–“You’re right, Coran…”- She quietly admitted before she looked up at him with a small, fond smile. –“Thank you. I’m glad that, after everything that’s happened, after everything we’ve lost, I still have you here. Your advice is very precious to me, as you know.”

And hearing that answer, Coran couldn’t help himself but to smile fondly at her, too, as the wrinkles by his eyes were noticeable. –“Of course, Allura.”- He lowered his head slightly. –“No matter what happens, I will always be here to try to guide you alike Alfor would have done.”

It was clear how the last part stuck with Allura, as she was struggling to restrain herself from shedding any tear. Eventually, she ended up nodding lightly as she looked up at Coran with a thankful and emotional smile.

One that he returned.

-“Well…”- Coran started, as his voice, now, went from soft to his regular, lively voice. –“I advise you to take your nose off of that paperwork, your Highness!”- He said as he pointed at all the scrolls. –“We’ll have a very tiresome afternoon, therefore, you must be mentally prepared for it.”

As Allura looked between Coran and the scrolls, she lightly chuckled. –“Alright, alright. I’ll try to relax for a little…”

With a smile, Coran gently nodded. –“Everything’s going to be fine. Do not worry, Your Highness.”

 

 

…

 

 

It had been about fifteen minutes since they had crossed realms.

Keith didn’t remember the last time he had done such thing, since it was forbidden to leave the Underworld without authorization from the Under-Lord. If he was going to be honest, he didn’t even know how to create a portal like Kuro, or Shiro, did for them.

The last time, though, it had been so many centuries ago. He was just a small child, probably about six hundred years old. It hadn’t even been him who created a portal, either. So, the feeling he felt when he set foot on Shiro’s windy portal was quite overwhelming. It felt like in a second, he was walking through a tornado, and the next, into something peaceful, and stayed there for some long, quiet seconds.

And then everything had turned brighter than he had ever seen. With so much whites and greens and light blues, rather than blacks and purples. He had even flinched as his eyes had burned due to be exposed to so much light in one go.

The last time he had seen so much light focused in one place, it had been before he had jumped realms centuries ago, when he still lived on The Dragon’s Nest. There were only a few blurry images in his mind of that place, one of them being his father’s face smiling down on him.

This time, however, when he stepped into the sun’s rays, he and Shiro had been greeted by a large amount of guards in shiny white Greek armor, sporting white cloaks on their backs, and the plumes on their helmets, which went from front to the back, were completely white.

And so, the guards escorted them from the place they had teleported to, in the entry of the palace, to the vast gardens.

As they walked in silence, they had seen the vast blue of the sky above them, as well as the intensified blue of the ocean below.

They arrived to this little place in the gardens, by the drop to the coast, where there was simply a little cylinder tower, serving as a sort of room. There, clothes were supplied to him, as he was instructed that it was for the best that Keith shouldn’t walk around wearing an Underworld armor.

So, that’s where he was, now.

And truth be told, Keith was shaking as he put on his new clothes.

This wasn’t… Alright, these clothes were okay, pretty practical but these weren’t the safe armor he was so used to carry around his body almost every hour of the day. And what made him feel even antsier, was that these clothes he was supplied with barely had any armor, aside from the very sharp double shoulder plates he was given. Well, at least these new clothes had a hood, too, and were mainly colored black.

As he was almost set, he could see his left arm visually tremble as he put his black bandages around the long red dragon marking, one that curled along all his forearm, as its open mouth ended by his fist.

Even his breathing was shaky, heavy, and uneven.

This was just… too much.

There was too much at stake. There was so much on his shoulders, so much more he ever thought there would be. He felt like crying if he allowed himself to, but he couldn’t. He was alone in this whole world again, and he knew that if he showed any weakness, those would be exploited against him. He had learned that the hard way from all those centuries spent in the Underworld.

And when a tear dared to drop from his eye, he didn’t even let it get to his cheek, he just immediately passed his finger by his eye to dry it.

After that, he did not let any other fall.

 

Meanwhile, Shiro was waiting on the outside.

He was leaning against the marble wall of the small tower, admiring the place. He looked around the extremely green gardens, lively as ever. So were the blue orchids and those pink flowers he saw all around the tower. To his right, he could still see the wide ocean, as well as a small beach below.

And as he saw the waves calmly come to shore, he smiled softly.

He noted this looked just like the human realm, something he hadn’t seen in so long. And not in a situation like this, where he didn’t have any Galra overlord to monitor his every step.

Shiro decided, as his eyes met the light rays of the sun for a little second before he blinked away, that he missed the Overworld. He missed the light and warmth of the sun, he missed the gentle smells of flowers and the distinct aroma of the salt water, that he could still sense from up there. He missed the colors and the peacefulness of it all.

He missed feeling… free.

Once his sight recovered, he crossed his arms, and that soft smile was kept on his lips as he took in the scenery before him.

He had been a prisoner of war. He lost his freedom in a battle long ago, between his army and the soldiers of the Underworld. And then, all he could recall was that he had been kept as a captive in the Underworld until by luck, or fate, he was allowed to raise up the ranks.

If Shiro was going to be honest, he was lucky that Zarkon chose him for this assignment. He was lucky that the Hybrid who was chosen was half from the Eastern Realms, Shiro’s home. Which had been the whole reason why Shiro was chosen to guide him in the first place, as the Under-Lord assumed Shiro was the most qualified to help Keith with his powers, as he was the one with most understanding of them.

But as much as the sight before him was making him feel hopeful, Shiro was still concerned.

He lowered his eyebrows as the memory replayed in his mind.

Some hours ago, before they jumped realms, he and Keith were ready to go before Zarkon himself walked up to them and announced that he wanted to speak to Akira in private before their departure. And Shiro would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way Akira appeared to be even more nervous and in panic when he had returned from his private discussion with the Under-Lord.

What the kid had been told, Shiro couldn’t possibly know, but it worried him.

This kid, this young god, he appeared to be this kind of person who had no one to guide them, and was even more lost because of it. It reminded Shiro of his first time in the Underworld. Lost and scared, with one less limb and a thousand more scarring memories.

He had been lucky this older Galra god, Ulaz, had sympathized with him and had vouched for him or else, Shiro was pretty sure he’d be no more by now. Because it was due to Ulaz’s efforts that he was able to climb from being a gladiator to have a decent spot in the imperial army.

Sighing, Shiro just hoped that Akira, or Keith, or however the young god wanted to be called, was going to be alright now that he was in the Overworld. After all, the least Shiro could do was to help the young god.

And speaking of the devil, suddenly, the door to his left opened, and Keith stepped out of it. He winced when the sunlight bathed him again, pushing his hood the best he could over his face to cover himself up.

His new outfit was all black with some dark red details. He had on a sleeveless black leather top, where the right side of it only ended on the left side of his chest, slightly oblique. He had a dark red large tarp over the end of his vest, acting as some sort of large belt, and below, on his front and back, long cloths came down to his knees, ending in a triangular shape.

He wore simple black pants, as well as sharp boots alike Shiro’s. Lastly, he had sharp double shoulder pads on each shoulder, both leaning upward to each side, as well as he had a dark red little cape that he had pinned to his right shoulder, coming down to the right side of his back.

He rubbed his eyes just so he could open them again, and once he could do so, he frowned. –“… Did I dress this right…?”- He quietly wondered as he looked down at himself.

Shiro raised his brow as he observed him. -“I think so.”- He kicked himself away from the wall and stood some steps before the young god. –“You look like you actually live here. Well… you know, if you don’t mind all the… all the black…”- He joked, as he put his arms on his waist and smiled.

However, Keith just looked at him for a second before he crossed his arms and looked to the side. -“If you say so…”

And Shiro did furrow his eyebrows slightly at the attitude, but didn’t dare to question it. -“Now, you ready for the meeting with the Queen of the Greek Overworld?”

Keith peered at him from the side with a guarded look before he looked back down to the floor to his left. –“… As ready as I can be.”

That quiet yet gloomy tone did make Shiro frown with concern. –“… Alright,”- He lowered his eyebrows sympathetically after he sighed. –“I know I’m a stranger, and you probably don’t trust me, and that’s fair. But you look anxious,”- He crossed his arms. –“and I can tell you right now that nothing will go wrong. I’m here to vouch for you.”- He noticed how Keith was looking at him now. –“It’s my job as your new mentor.”

After a small pause that Keith spent observing the older god with a careful gaze, he realized Shiro was waiting for his reaction. –“… Look, I appreciate that, but…”- He grimaced. –“I don’t know. Look, sir, I-“

Such usage of words made Shiro chuckle. –“I’m not a sir, kiddo.”

-“Well, I’m not a kiddo either.”- Keith dared to emphasize as he glared up at the god.

Reacting to the aggressive tone, Shiro simply put his palms in front of himself in sign of surrender. –“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”- He crossed his arms again. –“But I just wanted you to know that I’m here to help. I know we can barely trust anybody in the Underworld, but things are different here. Just, try to be more relaxed.”

This time, it seemed like Keith was actually considering his words, as the aggressiveness on his expression turned to something melancholic rather fast. And then, he simply diverted his gaze to the side. –“Yeah… Sure…”

Shiro’s look of concern never left his face, but before he could say anything else, a sudden cloud of smoke came to life by Shiro’s left, which startled both him and Keith, who suspiciously eyed the smoke as if it were a threat.

And from the smoke, appeared a little green creature. A dragon, as it seemed, of long waist, as big as the one on Keith’s forearm. Its color was a washed out green mixed with light grey and bits of black, like its long whiskers.

As the little creature coughed due to its own smoke, Shiro crossed his arms over his chest as he observed it with a non-impressed gaze. -“Oh, _look who’s here_. Where have you been for the last couple of days?”

The little dragon coughed a little bit more before it took in Shiro’s look and pouted. –“You were in the Underworld!! Did you know that 100% of the humans who cross over to the Underworld are either _dead_ or _die_???”

Before such answer, Shiro kept his right arm folded over his chest, and placed his left elbow on it, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes as he sighed, visually trembling with irritation. It was then, as he whipped his head around to face the creature, that he snapped.

-“ _YOU’RE NOT A HUMAN!!!!_ ”

In the meantime, Keith observed the exchange with a confused look, fortunately forgotten of his previous worries because of such distraction.

–“Uhh, what’s that… thing…?”- He asked as he pointed to the little creature.

Who, in the process, gasped loudly as it turned around to face him. –“I’m no thing!! I’m a familiar!! _And_ a dragon!”

In response, Keith tilted his head as he raised an eyebrow. –“Are you sure…? Aren’t you too small to be a dragon?”

Shiro exhaled a small breath from his nose as he closed his eyes for a brief second. Then, he supported his right hand on his waist, as he pointed with his left to the creature. –“This is Slav, my familiar. He’s a dragon, just a different type of dragon.”

Regarding the answer, Keith looked between the older god and the creature. –“Oh… He looks kinda cute…”

-“I’m not-!”

Before Slav could protest any further, Shiro placed his hand over the dragon’s little snout, as a smirk appeared on his lips. –“Yes. Yes, he’s very cute. Like a little puppy.”

As Shiro took his hand away, Slav crossed his noodle arms as he exhaled a smoky breath from his nostrils, appearing to be unpleased.

And seeing that, Shiro chuckled a little more, before he focused his attention back on the young god. –“Anyway,”- He placed his hands on his waist. –“we should get moving to the main oracle. It’s where Queen Allura will be expecting us.”

Being brought back to reality, Keith’s tone went from mildly amused due to the exchange of the other two, to serious once more. He exhaled a light breath from his nose for a long second, trying to steady himself.

-“Okay…”- Keith quietly announced as he looked up at the older god. –“Let’s do this.”

Shiro did not answer verbally, however he kept an encouraging smile on his face as he nodded.

All of them strolled through the gardens then, Shiro taking the lead as Slav fluttered over his shoulder as any familiar would. It was surprising, in Keith’s mind, as to how Slav and Shiro did appear to clash, at least from the first instance he got from their relationship, but now, both were walking silently and respectfully.

Perhaps it was because of his presence, which Keith appreciated. He did need the silence and the quietness to think. To try to put his raging thoughts in order, rather than letting them drown him once he got there. The faster he would try to calm himself, the more prepared he’d be for the meeting with the queen of the Overworld.

In the process of their walk, they went through many parts of the garden Keith hadn’t seen, and as his dark eyes were finally getting used to this new brightness that surrounded him, he was able to actually appreciate the sight.

It was… different. Perhaps it’d need some getting used to, but it was alright. The peaceful gardens definitely felt less heavy than the hunting dead forests Keith would wander in his free time when he was in the Underworld. Which should be a plus.

As they passed many centerpieces in the path, adorned with little artificial lakes or statues, sometimes both, they came to a stop before a part of the path where it led to a high stairway. It led up to what seemed to be an oracle, of a fairly small size, however, its columns were still as tall as any other.

Once they stopped, Shiro glanced over his shoulder at the young god with a comforting smile. –“It’s time.”

Hearing the announcement, Keith closed his eyes as Shiro turned back around. He exhaled a long breath from his mouth, feeling all the air in his lungs, as well as a large part of his nerves, leave in one breath. Although, once it was done, it all came back to him in seconds.

Because this was it. The moment he was about to meet the Queen he had heard so much about. He knew this was the being he had to impress, the being he must gain the trust of. It was his mission, after all. And if he did get on her bad side, then he pretty much knew how his new journey here, in the Overworld, would be rocky and difficult, exactly mirroring the progression of the pact between realms.

Behind Shiro’s confident steps, as he climbed up the stairs, Keith’s were hesitant. He was glad he was distracted by the small dragon floating by Shiro’s right shoulder, who looked back at him with a little smile, something welcoming, Keith assumed. And before the gesture, Keith replied with a little weak smile of his own.

Once they arrived up on the entry to the oracle, and set foot on its pristine marble floor, Keith observed the scenery around it, between its columns.

In the horizon, the sun was just starting to set, as the soft blue of the sky blended into oranges and pinks. No sight of a cloud. And beneath the sky, touching it in the line of the horizon, was the sea, reflecting its light.

Everything in this realm, Keith noted immediately, was very colorful and warm. Even his skin was a contrast to everything and anybody in it. He was too pale, more than any living creature would ever look like. His skin had a subtle grey tone to it, as a human’s body without any life left in it. Even Shiro, who had spent some centuries in the Underworld, he assumed, was still pale, though his was livelier, like a human being would look like.

He was… really out of place.

Part of him just wanted to go back to the Underworld. Sure, such place hadn’t been kind to him, but at least he could just hide out in the shadowy forest if things would get too grim. When he felt like he didn’t want to exist. Something he knew would be harder to do here.

Before him, in the other side of the room, by a large white desk, stood a goddess.

Her skin was dark and smooth, a perfect contrast with her long untied white hair which perfectly mimicked clouds. The intense look on her blue eyes suggested how respectful of a being she was. It was obvious that she had to be the Queen of the Greek Overworld, daughter of Alfor and granddaughter of Zeus, Queen Allura.

To her right was a man with light skin, sporting a lively ginger mustache on his face. He stood in a high posture, respectful, as he had his hands behind his back. He wore a mainly blue tunic, with some live orange patterns on its extremities. Keith had no idea who he was, but he appeared friendly.

Then, to the queen’s left, was the last presence in the room. It was a much taller and broader man, his skin brown, tanned. His grey, almost white long wavy hair fell to his shoulders and over his back, alike his long beard covered most of his face. His eyes were blue alike the ocean in the background.

He appeared to be the one who seemed to be the most neutral of the three. If he was feeling any sort of way, he certainly did not show it. And for his apparent age, he looked to be one of the old gods, which would make sense considering how respectful and powerful he seemed to be.

What gave away his identity most of all, was the large rotten golden trident he held on his left hand.

Poseidon, God of the Oceans.

Before the sight, Keith subtly gulped. Such presences were intimidating by themselves, but now, having an old god judge him as well…

Ahead of him, Shiro hastily bowed before the three, as he placed his open hand over his heart. –“Greetings, Queen Allura of the Olympus. Poseidon, King of the oceans. And…”- As his eyes met the other god, he paused for a little. –“Uhm…”

-“Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe!”- The older god cared to proudly announce. –“However, you could simply address me as Coran.”

Before the presentation, Shiro smiled. –“… Right uhm, and… Coran.”- With a sheepish smile, he nodded at the lively man, who appeared pleased. Meanwhile, Shiro focused back on the others. –“It’s a great honor to stand before all of you.”- He finally got himself upright from his bow, and brought his hand to his chest. –“I’m Kuro, lesser god of the Eastern Realms.”- He slightly turned around then, just by the side. –“And… as promised, this is Akira of the Underworld.”

Slightly hesitant, as all eyes fell upon him, Keith walked forward and came to a step by Shiro’s right. There, he slightly bowed, just with his head, before he spoke, in a tone in which he strived for respectfulness, but still sounded quite nervous.

–“It’s an honor meeting all of you...”

As he spoke, all the three other gods shared some looks. Poseidon seemed neutral, as per usual, while Allura seemed… not too pleased. And perhaps because of that, while looking at her in the eye, Coran subtly nodded towards the Galra, as he was silently trying to say to Allura ‘ _please say something_ ’.

And so, with a little twitch on her eyebrow, Allura leaned forward, as she supported her hands on the desk before her. It was clear she tried to not look as threatening, although, her look did not seem welcoming, either, as she could not bring herself to wear such expression.

Instead, she seemed defensive as she spoke. –“It is with great… _pleasure_ … that we welcome you into our academy, Akira.”

Hearing the announcement, Keith respectfully lowered his head. –“Thank you…”- He seemed hesitant for a moment before he decided to speak up, as he remembered when Shiro told him that in the Overworld, gods addressed each other as their personal names.

–“… Uhm, actually it’s, uhh, Keith. My personal name, that is…”

However, regarding such answer, such correction, Allura’s gaze only deepened into what seemed to be a glare.

In the meantime, in the background, Slav hoovered over Shiro’s shoulder, and placed his little paw by his mouth to cover up his whispering voice. –“Did you know that, in this reality, this meeting has a 73% chance of ending in a disaster?”

Hearing his familiar, Shiro slowly peered at him with an unimpressed look in his face, before he shooed him away with his hand.

-“Right…”- Allura began. –“ _Keith_.”- After she spent a long second observing him with an intense gaze, Allura got herself upright, as she no longer leaned on her desk, and allowed her arms to rest by her sides, shoulders high. –“Well, I suppose you are aware of the reason you’re here, correct?”

Even though he was aware he had done a mistake, Keith did not make time in his mind to dwell on it as of now. Instead, he wore a focused expression on his face, as his mind was back in the mission at hand.

–“I am. As agreed from the pact of non-harm, I’m here in good faith to represent the good intentions of the Underworld.”

Allura nodded. –“You are working as a diplomat, as such, we expect you to act as one. Know that any action that you do that may place this pact as well as any future agreements in jeopardy, will not be tolerated.”

-“I completely understand that.”

The Queen of the Greek Overworld observed him for a second more to search in his body language if his answer had been genuine. Once she concluded that it must have been, she proceeded. –“Good. Keith, you are required to attend classes in this academy and blend in with your peers, as well as you must partake in any diplomatic affair that may occur.”- Right then, she subtly pointed at Shiro. –“You have your new mentor to guide you through most things, however, I’ll have Coran explain to you how this academy works. Do you object to any of this?”

-“No, I don’t.”- Keith paused, awaiting for anything else in silence, but when he didn’t get anything else, he spoke up. –“… Am I… allowed to go, now?”

Regarding the question, Allura frowned. –“Your impatience is… jarring. But yes, you may.”

Grimacing, as he noted that he had, once again, made a mistake, Keith nodded at the Queen, afraid to spit out anything else that would offend her. With a little bow of his head, as he placed his hands behind his back, he looked around, eyeing the other two gods, before he turned around to leave.

As he passed by Shiro and Slav to go straight to the stairway, the older god and his familiar shared a look.

-“Go after him”- Shiro cared to whisper to the dragon, with a serious yet tender tone. –“and make sure he won’t get into any trouble. I’ll find you guys in a second.”

Perhaps in a normal situation, the tiny dragon would argue about how dangerous it would be that he’d be off on his own with a child of the Underworld, since something as a tiny puddle could make him stress out. However, in this case, the dragon understood the gravity of the situation, as well as the seriousness on Shiro’s tone. Because of that, he simply gave Shiro an understanding look and flew away into the sky.

In the meantime, as Shiro peered back forward, to the other gods, he saw Coran whispering something to the Queen, to which she answered by nodding. Right then, Coran hastily rushed past the desk, and past Shiro, and started to jog down the stairs, as Shiro turned around slightly to watch.

It was when the man turned a corner that Shiro drew in a slow breath from his nose, and as he looked back forward and started to walk to the remaining gods, he released it. Once he arrived slightly by them, stopped some steps from the desk in a respectful distance, he started hearing the conversation the other two were already sharing.

-“-of him?”- He heard the Queen, in a hushed tone, asking to the old god.

And in response, Poseidon’s deep and well projected voice, answered. –“I have nothing to think of him.”- He slightly lowered his chin as he kept his eyes on the Queen. –“In fact, I must go. The oceans require a tremendous amount of time dedicated to them.”

That made Allura furrow her eyebrows. –“I do understand that, Poseidon, but…”- She fully turned to him. –“Won’t you stay for a little longer?”- That was when her expression slightly softened. –“Perhaps you could say hello to your-“

However, she was immediately interrupted. –“Time is of the essence, Allura.”- As he spoke, he was already halfway turned to the exit, clutching his trident tight. He steeled her with a stern look in his deep eyes, such expression that emphasized how his tone had been final. –“It was a pleasure to see you, as always.”

Allura still regarded him for a little while, in a tense stare, a look clearly showing how she was unpleased with his decision, as well as his brash answer. However, perhaps out of respect, or for lacking the time to argue any further, she nodded.

–“Likewise.”

Standing before her answer, Poseidon observed her for a little longer, with the same stern look on his face, however, something in his eyes shifted. Something alike the waves of the ocean that melancholically would wash up on the beach in a day of a calm storm. And then, perhaps to hide it, he turned around and started walking to the exit.

As he passed by Shiro, the old god peered at him slightly and stoically observed him for a flash of a second. It was then that he reached the end of the room, but rather than walking down the stairs like the others, he made a motion with his trident, still on his left hand.

Said motion made a portal of salt water appear, with its soft foam and everything. Poseidon hesitated a little as he stood before his very own portal, perhaps still dwelling on what the Queen had said to him, but perhaps out of pride, with a long exhale from his nose, he proceeded to step towards it.

And in a second, he was in the water, and the portal, alike his figure, vanished out of existence.

Shiro kept staring at the spot the mighty old god once stood, mostly unconsciously. It was then, some seconds later, that he glanced to his left, to the desk and the goddess who stood behind it. He noticed the Queen had leaned over the desk again, having her hands supported on the smooth white material the desk was made of. She was frowning as it seemed, as she read a scroll she had opened in front of her. In a moment, she got her right hand to her forehead and rubbed it gently as if she had any sort of headache, or had too much on her mind. Perhaps both.

And maybe because of said sight, Shiro felt bad he was about to interrupt her. She seemed to be too busy with a large amount of work to do, but Shiro knew that what he had to say, would have to be addressed this very moment. If he saved it for any time later, he knew it would just be too late.

So, with a little bit of courage, Shiro turned fully to her and took another step closer to the desk.  –“Hey…”

At the sound of his low, timid voice, the Queen looked up from her scroll to look at him with a mildly surprised gaze, as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone. She did not speak then, she simply eyed him with an awaiting curious look.

Something Shiro noticed. –“… Uhm, my apologies for bothering you, your Highness, but I… If I may spare some words with you…”

For a little second, the Queen blinked, in what seemed to be in surprise, but right then, she made a gesture with her hand to him. –“Oh, Of course. Please do make yourself at home… Kuro, am I correct?”

Shiro smiled kindly. –“Yes. Well, my personal name is Takashi Shirogane, but usually I’m addressed as Shiro. If, you don’t mind…”

-“Shiro…”- She had repeated, as if feeling the name, before she looked towards him with a smile mimicking his own. –“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was then that Allura extended her right hand towards him, in what seemed to be the intention to share a handshake with the other god. And understanding so, Shiro extended his hand towards hers, only hesitating a little when he realized he was using his fake limb that had been supplied to him by the Galra.

Nonetheless, the Queen took his hand in hers, and even though he couldn’t feel any tact with that arm, he could tell she had firmly gripped his hand with hers.

And perhaps, because of that gesture, of her not being afraid to actually take this terrifying part of himself in her powerful hand, Shiro’s smile turned timid as he spoke. –“Pleasure’s all mine.”- Both retrieved their hands to themselves, then. –“I never thought I’d meet the granddaughter of Zeus herself. I’ve heard many stories of you.”

-“All positive, I hope.”

That made Shiro grimace. –“Actually… it… varied. Many times, amongst the Galra armies, the stories were not told the…”- He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. –“kindest way…”

Hearing such answer, it was clear that the welcoming look on Allura’s face shifted to something defensive, a clear frown which was even noticeable in her changed tone. –“Oh… I forgot you are Galra as well…”- And as she spoke, she looked a little to the side, with a look that expressed how she felt foolish for not having realized that sooner.

-“I suppose…”- Shiro quietly said as he trailed off without any plausible answer after that.

As he lowered his look, gloominess took over his dark eyes, with a slight taint of guiltiness. Quietly, he drew in a breath from his nose and allowed his chest to rise, as his lungs filled with air, and then, silently and calmly, he let it go.

-“Not by choice, though.”

As the Queen heard his low tone, she looked up at him once more, still looking defensive, but also seeming to be willing to listen.

And as such, with his gaze still distant, focused in nothingness, Shiro started his explanation. –“I’m originally a lesser god, from the Eastern Realms, as you know...”

What Shiro did not feel worthy to point out, however, was the he had had a high rank in his original realm. He was a commander, a much respected one, and known in many Overworld realms as some sort of savior due to how many battles he succeeded to win against the Underworld armies. He would get recognized anywhere he would go to, and gods would treat him as an idol.

Not anymore, though. He looked older, more broken, tired. He wasn’t the radiant courageous successful commander he used to be. And perhaps his more exhausted stance, like his equally exhausted eyes, would make him appear like a totally different being.

-“A century ago, I was injured in battle and taken by the Galra to the Underworld…”- He gravely lowered his eyebrows. –“I was their prisoner. It took me a while to rise from being a gladiator, a piece of entertainment in their arenas, to being a lesser official.”- He weakly shrugged. –“Mostly, I’d partake in scouting missions or running errands, and… I suppose, now, in a diplomatic mission, too.”

As Shiro’s gaze met hers once more, Allura could see the honesty in his dark brown eyes, as well as the repressed feelings that hid beneath them. And such thing, made her sympathize with his story, and his not so subtle pain.

Because it was then that she realized that Shiro wasn’t actually ‘one of them’. He was, in a way, a victim, too. Forced to work for them unless he wanted to vanish into nothingness in one unlucky day in the arenas. He chose to live, and perhaps he had done some not so great things to do so, even if he did not partake in violent battles and missions in the name of the Galra and the Underworld.

But Allura could never condemn him for choosing existence over a forced death.

And it was due to that realization that Allura’s defensive look softened into something sympathetic. –“Oh… I see…”- She lowered her eyes as they aimlessly roamed the open scroll on her desk, before she caught sight of the glowing purple of the god’s exposed arm. And it was with curiosity that she spoke up. –“If… I may ask…”

It appeared that Shiro already knew what she meant, as he had caught her gaze settled upon his limb. Rather than looking offended, however, he smiled.

–“This?”- He guessed as he brought his fake forearm slightly up in front of both. –“It’s a sort of prosthetic the witch put together.”- As he spoke, he never lifted his gaze from his arm, and the more he looked, the sadder his smile turned. –“I lost my limb in the battle I lost my freedom. Cut down by the Under-Lord himself…”

Seeing him trailing off, Allura waited in silence for a few more seconds, waiting patiently and respectfully to see if he would like to add anything more to it. But when she noted that he wouldn’t, her look lowered. –“I’m sorry…”- She spoke, in a quiet voice. –“I was not aware…”

Noticing the guilty tone coming from the Queen, Shiro hastily smiled warmly, trying to soften the melancholic exchange. –“It’s alright. I’m used to it by now.”

It was then that Allura looked up at him with a smile mirroring his, like a sign of relief that she hadn’t offended him in any way, probably sensing that the subject of his fake limb was probably more delicate than Shiro made it out to be. He was thankful for that, too.

But then, as Shiro’s mind settled back on the original motive regarding why he approached the Queen, his smile slowly vanished, giving way to a serious tone. -“I just… wanted to ask you to go easy on the kid.”

Such statement, too, made Allura lose her smile, as she frowned lightly.

-“Keith’s trying.”- He insisted, with a sincere look. –“It’s not a piece of cake either for him, to have his old world swept off his feet. Twice. I learned that before he was taken into the Underworld, he grew up on The Dragon’s Nest. Those are very different places.”- He lowered his eyebrows. –“He’s been training to be a soldier his whole life, not a diplomat. I just ask of you to please give him some time.”

For some long seconds, Allura firmly stared up at him, not looking like she wanted to back down from her stand. It took some time until she answered to his request. –“… I’ll see what I can do.”

And even though that tone was not a definite answer, Shiro smiled nonetheless. –“Thank you.”- He sympathetically lowered his eyebrows. –“I can only imagine how it must feel terrifying to welcome one of the people from a realm that has caused so much pain into your own home. Just knowing the fact that you’re trying is very appreciated from my part. From everyone’s.”

For the first seconds, Allura actually seemed surprised with Shiro’s answer. She honestly expected something different. She didn’t expect him to understand. But he did. And that was why a light smile came back to her lips. –“Thank you for understanding.”

-“Of course.”- Immediately, Shiro lightly bowed. –“Now, if you excuse me, I should go settle in.”

In response, Allura simply nodded. –“Welcome back to the Overworld, Shiro.”

Regarding her genuine smile, Shiro wore one of his own as he answered, before he turned around to leave. –“Thank you, your Highness.”

 

 

…

 

 

-“Ah, there you are!”

On the vast gardens of the palace, Keith had found a high spot and had sat on the marble path with his back to the low wall, which cast shade on him. Behind him was another patch of greenery, with wild climbing plants coming down a tree. He had his left leg extended forward, and his right knee brought to his chest, as he had his forearm laid on it. His other hand was on the floor to his side.

He had his head lowered, dark bangs in front of his vision, but as he heard the little creature’s voice calling from his left, he slowly turned his sight to the side, not lifting it, to observe the tiny dragon with a cautious expression.

-“… What do you want?”

Considering the quiet yet warning tone coming from the god, Slav seemed apprehensive, before he shoved it to the side. –“… Well, I must make sure you’re out of danger.”- As he hoovered in the air, he placed a paw behind his back and raised a claw as he spoke. –“And as you may know, all the realms are dangerous!! As those plants behind you!”- As he pointed at them, Keith cautiously turned his head to look at them. –“There is a 42% chance that those are poisonous!”

-“I’m a god,”- Keith said, matter-of-factly, as he glanced back at the dragon. –“I can’t die like a human does.”

In regards to the god’s answer, the dragon rubbed his chin with his three right claws. -“Perhaps, but did you know that such poisonous plants may cause an irritating itch even to gods??”

Unconsciously, Keith retracted himself away from the wall, just slightly, as he observed the plants the dragon had pointed at. He decided, however, that the dragon was simply exaggerating, and the fact that he had actually went along with it was ridiculous.

So, he settled himself back on the wall, as he let his back hit the white marble as he let a breathed ‘oof’ escape his lips. With his closed off look, he decided to stare forward rather than at the creature, and when he answered, his quiet words sounded bitter.

–“Whatever you say…”

The dragon’s look lowered then, as he observed the god with a helpless tone. –“… Is there something wrong?”

-“What do _you_ think?”- Keith immediately spat as he glanced up at the dragon, with a guarded yet mildly aggressive look.

A warning, as it seemed, but rather than coming out of pure malice, it just seemed what had triggered it had been some sort of a defensive mechanism the god had developed because of his own fears.

It was then that Keith looked down, to his legs and the floor beneath them. –“It’s obvious nobody wants me here.”- His tone lost its edge as he spoke, sounding almost broken as he said: -“I don’t belong…”

-“Well… there is an 89% possibility that that is true…”

Regarding the dragon’s nervous sort of… of failed comfort, Keith assumed, he peered Slav for a brief moment. –“Gee, thanks…”

The dragon’s eyes went subtly wide as he noted his efforts hand been unsuccessful. -“However, there is a… 11% chance that that isn’t… true…?”- He sported a nervous toothy smile as he regarded the god, who, in response, simply stared at him with a deadpan look in his eyes.

-“Uhm, am I interrupting something?”

The strange yet sort of familiar voice made Keith look to his left, to the part where, after some steps, the small path he sat on intercepted with a main pathway of the gardens. There, he noticed, stood the one strange god who had once been by the Queen’s right on the still fresh audience he had with them just some minutes prior.

As Keith’s surprised gaze feel upon the older god, Coran he remembered, it subtly faded to something low, something gloomy.

-“Not really.”- He quietly answered.

In response to him, the older god smiled warmly behind his mustache. –“May I?”- As he placed his hands on his back, he nodded towards the spot to Keith’s left.

Understanding the god’s request, Keith answered before he looked back down. –“Sure…”

Politely beaming, Coran walked the rest of the fair distance between both of them, and as the little dragon laid himself over the wall behind them, Coran took his spot. He calmly sat next to the young god, however, he kept a respectable distance, perhaps so Keith could feel comfortable having his personal space to himself.

Once on the floor, Coran extended both his legs forward and gently placed his clasped hands on his lap. He sat silent for some little quiet moments, as he simply observed the beautiful and almost natural sight before him.

Suddenly, he exhaled a long breath from his mouth, sounding as a breathed, content sigh. -“Is this not a beautiful sight?”

Regarding the question, Keith did not look at the older god, but instead, he lifted his look and glanced around, just like Coran was doing. However, the dark look in his eyes did not match Coran’s bright glint in his.

–“It’s very… colorful. And bright…”

-“Exactly!”- Coran cheerfully exclaimed, while in the meantime, Keith grimaced. Noticing, as Coran had peered subtly to the side at the god, his lively look lessened as he had realized the feelings of the younger god. –“Oh… I just realized you are probably not used to such sight, eh…?”

Keith had his gaze lowered again, as he had been staring at his bandaged right forearm still laying on his knee. –“Yeah, uhm… The Underworld is very dark. There’s this black mist of darkness or whatever everywhere. It’s the opposite of…”- He gestured around himself. –“all this.”

Understanding the god’s point, Coran simply quietly hummed. –“I see…”- And that was when his lively tone was back to his voice. –“But fear not, young god! You will surely get used to this!”- He noticed how, from the look on the god’s face, Keith didn’t look too convinced. –“Now, now, young fellow, you mustn’t worry too much.”- He raised his right index finger in the air. –“First days are always incredibly scary! Even mine was.”

-“Yeah… But you’re not from the Underworld…”

Coran regarded him for a silent second, thoughtfully, before he spoke up. –“… Well, yes, I may not be. However, young lad, you must keep in mind that I have attended this same academy a long time ago. In an era when the war had yet not begun.”

Keith peered at him then, realizing he had forgotten that Coran did look old enough to remember very well how life was before the war that has been raging for a millennium. -“Oh…”

-“Indeed. I have shared many classes with many fellows from the Underworld. Unlike many gods nowadays, I do still remember the time things were as they should be. I remember how most Underworld folk were considerate just alike any Overworld god.”

As he kept on going with his speech, Coran unconsciously gazed forward, upwards lightly, to the now darker sky of the start of the evening. –“It may be foolish of me, as perhaps my fond memories and nostalgia may be clouding my judgement. Nevertheless, I do still believe that there is still good in some inhabitants of the Underworld, even to this day. Or at least, I do hope…”- That was when he glanced at the young god. –“After all, your presence here, representing peace, is evidence to my belief.”

Keith stared at the god for a little, silent while, with his eyes subtly surprised, his lips lightly parted. It was then that as he shut his mouth, that the peered to the side with a grave look. –“I’m not so sure…”- He admitted, with a quiet voice.

With a sympathetic look on his own expression, Coran reached for the young god, and gently patted his shoulder. –“That’ll come in time. Just like the acceptance of the other students towards you.”

Having those words dwelling on his racing mind, Keith’s look, as he watched Coran, softened, just slightly. Although, somewhere in the immense indigo of his eyes, there was still a drop of guilt that never left his gaze.

Coran smiled then, as he patted the god’s shoulder once more, before he started to stand up. –“Now,”- He spoke as he was already up, extending an open hand to the young god. –“may I show you your new room?”

Pushing his thoughts and feelings and doubts aside, Keith stood up by taking the older god’s help. –“I’d like that, actually.”- He said once he was on his feet again.

-“Meanwhile,”- Started Slav, still laying on the half wall, whose presence both gods had forgotten. –“I will get Shiro.”

And just like that, with a sudden explosion of smoke, the dragon disappeared in it, leaving the other gods alone. Keith had watched the creature disappear until most smoke had dispersed and vanished, and once he looked over his shoulder to his right, he noticed Coran was already starting to walk.

Keith looked between Coran and the spot where the dragon once was, and in a second, he started to walk up to the older god, in a hurried pace to catch up to him.

-“Hey… Coran, right?”- He said once he reached the God’s right, walking some steps slightly behind him.

And just like that, Coran glanced over his shoulder at him, waiting for any word to be spoken.

The look on Keith’s face was guarded still, but his eyes, did not hide, as always, the emotions he was feeling. And in this case, it was gratitude. -“Thanks for being welcoming to me. I know it’s hard for you guys to accept someone like me here…”- He trailed off as he lowered his gaze to the side for a little second before he looked back at the god. –“I appreciate that.”

Because of such words, a warm smile appeared on Coran’s expression. –“Anytime.”

 

 

…

 

 

The night had taken over the skies of this realm just some hours after, and now, the sun was risen high once more. In the early morning, Coran’s classroom was already filled with most of his students, who sat around the classroom, a few alone, and others arranged in their own little groups.

In the back, the friend trio already were occupying their respective seats. Hunk, to the left, had his scroll open, and was quickly writing some notes in it, to prepare himself for the class. In the middle, Lance had a different scroll open, of a drama play, and was reading it intently.

To his right, Pidge was doing nothing. She had her cheek laid on her open right palm, looking out the windows to the indoors patio of the building, as at the same time, she beat her fingers on the tabletop in a constant rhythm. It was clear that something was on her inquisitive mind, something pulling on her natural curiosity.

It was then that she peered at her friends, out of a whim, and spoke up. -“… What class do you guys think the Underworld kid will be in?”

On the other side, Hunk dropped his quill on the table, the ink on its tip magically not spilling onto the wood. He looked at her with a grave tone, as he pointed his finger at her. –“It _better_ not be ours.”

Regarding such answer, Pidge seemed unamused. –“Or else…?”

-“Or else I’ll, like…”- Hunk lost all the edge of his tone for a second as he struggled to come up with an answer, as to be fairly honest, he didn’t know himself what he’d do. –“I’ll… I’ll show them!”- He decided to answer, as he beat his right fist on his left palm.

In the meantime, Lance lightly diverted his attention from his read as he looked at his best friend from the side, as he still held his scroll. –“We all know you wouldn’t do that, Hunk. You’d just stare at them with _The Look_. Which is actually pretty scary…”- He shrugged then, as his eyes fell back on his reading. –“But, I’m with you on that.”

-“As if any of you ‘ _veikrs’_ would actually do anything.”

The very familiar rough voice came from right before them. In front of the trio, between two desks, stood a large god, of a built alike Hunk’s, if only slightly thinner, though he was taller. He wore a sort of iron armor with a mix of leather and fur, like his shoulder pads, though it did not cover most of his torso, as it only was covered by a dark green shirt. Last of all, over his ginger hair, he wore a helmet with two horns curling backwards.

Vali, a god of Norse offspring, was one of the most feared fighters of the academy, currently holding the title of the best fighter in all current classes. His built, combined with his raging berserker battle style, were the key factors that made him the ruthless fighter he was.

And as his fighting style, his words were, too, ruthless and grotesque.

-“You would solely cower in fear as you’d lay your eyes upon the demon. Me?”- He crossed his arms around his chest. –“I would _scoff_ at fear-“

Annoyed, Lance sighed as he dropped his scroll on his table. –“Yeah, yeah, you’re ‘the bravest warrior ever’, ‘the best there will ever be’, ‘the one who will bring Zarkon to his feet’. Sure thing, man, do you want a trophy or something? Wanna ask Allura to warn the humans to make the next Olympics in your honor?”

With scorn in his eyes, the Norse god frowned deeply as he gritted his teeth. –“Watch your tongue, spear limbs.”

-“Uhh, nope.”- Lance said as he leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest. –“It’s Lance. Not a spear, a lance.”- He grinned as he leaned back, placing his arms behind his head. –“You were close, though, I’ll give you that.”

The Norse god seemed even more irritated. He scoffed off the joke, and instead, he brought a hand up as he caressed his own beard, as he watched the Greek god with a thick raised eyebrow. –“… In other affairs, word told your father was here yesterday.”- His frown deepened. –“Surely fighting your own battles for you, as per usual.”

-“Dude, lay off!”- Pidge suddenly exclaimed as she set her warning eyes upon the Viking, who looked back at her with his chin lifted in a superior way, not saying a word.

-“Yeah! That’s like, _so_ not cool.”- Hunk supplied, as he beat his fist on his desk.

-“Wait…”- As Lance spoke, his grin slowly vanished from his face as he let his arms fall to his sides. He furrowed his eyebrows as his lips slightly parted, his gaze falling upon the dark wood of his desk. –“My father was here yesterday…?”

The Norse god nodded.

Before the confirmation, Lance lowered his eyebrows as his sight fell back on his desk.

_He didn’t even say hi…_

It was true that Lance didn’t have the… the closest relationship with his father. His family was large, as he knew, since the old gods always had a whole lot of children, being those gods or demigods. The times both he and Poseidon had spoken had been very few, and when they did, Lance would always notice the stoic look on the god’s face.

His accomplishments were nothing compared to some of his siblings, he knew, and his father never seemed the least impressed with them.

Neither proud.

It was hardly ever he had seen the old god’s look soften, especially at him, and once it would happen, Lance knew it was out of pity. It was basically that this so powerful and legendary being such as Poseidon was looking down at him, his son, his son with barely any worth, one amongst many others. Never with anything but pity. Never with a smile.

Unlike how his mother and his closest siblings were. And his grandmother. Those were his family, for sure. They treated him like a peer, with love and care, and the usual teasing any close family would partake in.

His father, however… Well, it was a complicated matter to Lance. And perhaps while before Vali’s words had not harmed him, these hit too close to home.

-“By any means,”- Vali started, as his sudden voice called upon Lance’s attention. –“do keep engaging on your affairs, ‘ _veikrs_ ’.”

-“Do keep being as smart as a brick, moron.”- Pidge remarked.

The Norse god simply scoffed as he turned around.

As he was out of it, out of his thoughts and back to reality, Lance blinked before he slapped his hand on his desk and slightly stood up as he pointed at the Norse god with his finger. –“Yeah! Mind your own business you- you _Minotaur lover_!!”

However, the Norse god ignored him as he went back to his group. And noticing that, Lance let out a furious huff from his nose before he sat back down on his chair, and once he did so, he leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the general direction of the Viking.

-“Really? ‘ _Minotaur lover’_?”- Hunk commented by his side.

-“I was put on the spot!”- Lance retorted back as he slashed a hand forward. –“That’s the first thing that came to mind!”

Hunk lowered his eyebrows then, with concern, and leaned forward to peer at Pidge, who was already looking at him with the exact same look on her face. He felt sort of guilty he hadn’t interfered more, but Hunk wasn’t that much of a confrontational person like his friends were.

Perhaps he should be more assertive… Act more.

But now, all he could do was deal with the aftermath, as any good friend would. –“Hey buddy, you okay?”- He tentatively asked as his brown eyes fell upon his friend’s lowered face. –“… Don’t listen to him… He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s a jerk, right?”

-“Yeah,”- Pidge continued. –“He may kick our butts anytime but inside all that muscle and rage, there’s only a pea brain. He’s not worth our time.”

In response to his friend’s words, Lance groaned. –“What does that word even _mean_ , anyway?”

-“ _Veikr_?”- Pidge guessed. –“I think the dude’s trying to say ‘weak’ in Norse. Not sure about the way he used it though.”

That explanation only made Lance groan louder as he leaned back on his chair, letting himself slightly slip down, as he brought his hands to his face and tiredly rubbed by his eyes and forehead.

Meanwhile, his friends continued with the gossip. –“I mean, the guy thinks he’s so tough,”- Hunk continued. –“and he probably can and will kick our butts, but he’s got like, no right to do or say the things he does!”

-“You’re right. Remember when he got away with murder three times?”- Pidge said as she causally leaned back on her chair.

Hunk raised his hands in the air. –“That! Was! Insane! I knew Odin was very influential but wow, that jerk really got away with just a century of doing community work!?”

-“And that,”- Pidge said. –“is why I don’t believe in justice. I mean, Allura could at least have done something.”

-“She tried, remember? But Vali always got away because he’ll ‘be a great addition to the defensive armies’ and ‘if he doesn’t get the opportunity to keep learning here’ Odin would ‘retract the alliance between their realm and ours’.”- Hunk argued, using quotation marks as he quoted Odin’s arguments.

Pidge groaned just as she heard it again. She folded her arms on her desk as she laid her head on them. –“Sure, he will be a _great_ addition to the Overworld armies, if he _doesn’t_ kill his own.”

Hunk abruptly gestured at her with both his hands, as he wore an intense expression on his face, something meaning an exasperated ‘exactly!’

-“I appreciate you guys standing up for me,”- Lance suddenly started, as he eyed his friends, who immediately shifted their attention to him. –“and all this gossip which, by the way, I agree with one hundred percent, but… Can we maybe change the subject? I don’t wanna hear about that guy anymore.”

With the same preoccupied look in his eyes, Hunk answered for both. –“Sure, man…”

But before any of them could speak any further, Coran suddenly entered the room, as the rest of the other students, who were waiting outside, came in after him. That resulted on the rest of the students leaving their original spots to seat at their desks, rather than just gathering around one point. Some of them, including the trio, wished Coran a good morning.

-“Good morning to everyone, too!”- Coran announced as he leaned over the front of his desk. –“Please do quiet down a notch, I need your careful attention, for _I_ have an important announcement to make!”

On the back, Hunk narrowed his eyes as he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. –“Oh no you _don’t_ , Coran.”- He whispered, just so his friends could hear the comment. Truth be told, he already figured what was about to happen, but he didn’t want to believe it until it happened. At the very least.

-“We have a new student in our class!”- Coran joyfully announced, which made Hunk subtly groan in the background. –“I must bid you to welcome him with open arms!”

Just as Coran spoke, he glanced to his left, at the door and made a gesture with his head to encourage the student to come in. In a short spawn of seconds, the student finally did. Once he walked in and stood in front of the room, he crossed his arms and lowered his head, mostly covered by his dark hood which he, apparently, refused to lower.

After a little, the guy glanced over at Coran, and the older god nodded towards the class, to encourage the new student to speak up. And he did.

He lightly looked up, as the others could mildly see his face under the hood’s shadows and his dark bangs, and awkwardly brought his hand to the back of his neck, under the hood. –“Uhm, hey, everyone…”- He started as he briefly raised his other hand at them, before he crossed his arms again. –“I’m Keith and I, I’m from the Greek Underworld.”

As he spoke, some members of the class proceeded to greet him, and as he nodded at them, he glanced at Coran, looking for a clue that this presentation was over and he could just sit down. And understanding his look, Coran nodded.

-“There we go!”- Coran spoke, as the new student lowered his head again and made his way to an empty desk by the door, on the front row. –“Now, with no further ado-“

As Coran started to delve into his actual lesson for the day, and many students started to pay attention as well, the trio in the back, all of them, still had their eyes on the back of the head, or hood, of the new student, who was currently seating with his face leaned on his left fist, as he tried to look over at Coran.

-“… He looks chill.”- Pidge decided after a little while.

-“What?!”- Hunk exclaimed, in a hushed tone. He placed his hand on the left side of his mouth to muffle out his voice to unwanted ears. –“He’s a Galra!”

In the meanwhile, Lance had his arms crossed as he looked over at the tense-looking stranger, with an eyebrow raised. –“He doesn’t look that dangerous to be honest,”- He glanced at his best friend to the side. –“but I’m with Hunk.”

In response, Pidge simply sighed before she turned her attention back to her studies. –“Whatever you guys say…”

 

 

…

 

 

If there was a thing Keith started to realize during the class, was that he chose the worst seat possible. Maybe.

As he sat in the front, with his hood on, refusing to set it down, he could feel the stares of many other fellow students on his back, and he hated it. Even the kids next to him were constantly, anxiously glancing at him, and so, he couldn’t even look at Coran. Only forward or to his right, to the door. That is, unless he’d like to endure always seeing a god from the corner of his eyes staring, which he didn’t want to.

He hated this. All this unwanted attention was driving him crazy. He was suddenly becoming highly aware of his surroundings, and his actions, so he started to overthink every move he’d make, which was bunkers in his fair opinion.

Nonetheless, he just wished he could go back to being almost invisible like he had been in the Underworld. In the Galra academies he attended, there was no time in any class for students to slack off, much less to just constantly stare at anyone, unlike here, he started to assume. After all, there, every student had to take the lessons seriously, hear about the sanguinary history of their Under-Lord and know it back to back.

And the arena classes… The still fresh memories of dark beings taking over his mind still haunted him. The arena classes had to be taken as an affair of life or death.

Alas, he was in the Overworld now, so he supposed some things were a little different.

He didn’t even have any sort of paper to write down some notes as he had seen his peers do, and he was too nervous to speak up about it to Coran because he was sure that would only call more attention upon him and he… didn’t want that. So he just sat there… doing nothing as he waited time to pass. Feeling the stares of his peers, imagining just how much they were already judging him.

As if he’d care.

When the ominous sounding bell rang the fourth time that morning, it was about midday. Coran had explained to him before class how the schedule basically worked, so he assumed this was lunch time so they were free to go. And that was how he was the first leaving class.

Just as it rang, he hastily got himself up, didn’t even look at Coran, and just rushed out of the door.

He didn’t go to the eating place or anything either. Instead, he left the entire building, and headed to the park of the campus, which was to the left, considering their classroom.

In the middle of the greenery and beige marble paths, was a large fountain with a statue of Poseidon in the middle of it, holding his trident on his risen arm. That was the place Keith decided to settle by, as not many being were by the park, only passing by to head over to their dorms or the cafeteria.

He didn’t need lunch. Gods did not need to eat like humans do, only if they wished to restore energy or store it. But he didn’t need to. He had been trained in the Underworld to be used to fight with low energy, as it would be ‘the most accurate battle scenario’. He had slept for the last entire night anyway, his energy was just fine.

He sat down by the fountain’s foundation, on the floor, having his back to the marble. He extended his left leg forward and once again had his right knee a little bit up, just slightly. This time, he rested with his arms crossed over his chest.

This was such a ridiculous thing to endure. If this was how he had to live his everyday life from now on, then he had been wrong. He would much rather spend most his days either on the battle arenas, as regular school in the Underworld was already over for gods his age, and then he’d get to head over to this little cabin amongst a dark forest and spend his time there with his only friend, who, no, wasn’t Thace. Just a lone creature alike him who lived in the nearby forest.

Here, here he had to be around beings constantly, as well as he had to attend diplomatic affairs in the future. He didn’t even know how those worked, he didn’t learn this, he wasn’t the slightest prepared for any of this… This was crazy.

Why was he even chosen, again?

 

-“Sup, dude?”

The unfamiliar voice broke him out of his train of thought, and with a surprised gaze, he looked to his left, to where it had come from. There, he saw a little god with a brown, ginger-ish messy short hair sat many steps from him, on the fountain’s foundation.

As he initially did not answer anything, not knowing what to say, she raised her eyebrow at him as she readjusted her round glasses.

Before such gesture, he cautiously narrowed his eyes, and spoke in the same tone. –“… Nothing… much…?”

-“Yeah, I figured.”- She said with a shrug, as she crossed her arms, too. –“I mean, but at the same time there’s gotta be a lot of stuff going on, you know, in your mind, since you’re like in a totally different world.”

Keith wasn’t really understanding why this god started any conversation with him, so his cautious yet confused look only deepened when she spoke that. –“I… I guess so…”

-“Cool.”- She said, with a little smirk. –“You’re Keith, right? I’m Pidge.”

-“Uhh…”- With a furrow of his eyebrows, he glanced away. –“Okay…”

The little god, Pidge, remained in silence as she observed him with a questioning look, just for a little while, before she spoke up next. –“… Jeez, you’re terrible at this.”

-“Well I’m sorry I don’t know how to relate to any of you.”- Keith immediately spat out with a defensive edge in his voice, as he tightened the grip of his crossed arms over his chest and never looked up at the little god. –“Kinda sucks.”

Pidge paused for a little bit as she watched him in astonishment, her amber eyes blown wide in surprise regarding his blunt answer. But quickly, the surprised look shifted to something inquisitive, and in a way, understanding of his meaning.

–“Hum… Yeah, I guess I didn’t take into account that your culture is different from ours…”- She sheepishly grinned. –“Sorry about that.”- She, then, raised a brow. –“You guys aren’t too big on introductions or something?”

Still amazed how the conversation, somehow, was still going, Keith looked up at her for a second before he glanced back forward, to the ground before his feet. –“We aren’t too big at anything ‘friendly’.”- He said, with quotation marks. At least there was one thing that seemed to be universal, as Pidge seemed to understand his meaning.

And before he explained any further, he stopped himself, as he lightly frowned. –“Why would you care, anyway?”- He inquired as he looked up at her.

In response, Pidge pursed her lips as she casually shrugged. –“Dunno. Just curious.”

-“Why?”

She shrugged again. –“Cuz’ you’re someone from a realm I haven’t met anyone else from.”- As she answered, she was not looking at him, but rather, forward, towards the expansion of gardens around the park.  –“I like to know about stuff, learn new things, cultures and ideologies.”- Then, she lowered her gaze to her feet. –“… I guess that comes with being a child of Athena.”

Keith remembered pretty well how he learned Athena was no more, so instead of saying anything else in the hopes of not offending this stranger, he answered simply and shortly.

–“Oh… Alright…”

Such answer made Pidge peer at him from the corner of her eyes with a questioning, almost judgmental look. -“… Gee, you’re a talker.”- Keith seemed to frown at her sarcastic remark, which was why she lightened her look. –“Okay, dude, here we go.”- She turned more to him and pointed a commanding finger at him. –“Prepare to listen to this, and be sure to hear it all the first time cuz’ I won’t be repeating it.”

Keith blinked in surprise, but remained quiet, as he gave Pidge the room to talk all she wanted.

Understanding, Pidge drew in a deep inhale, and some seconds after, let it escape her nose. –“I mean, we get it, okay?”- She started, as she turned back to him. –“You’re out of your element, and you’re probably just as wary of being here like other people are wary of your presence. And it’s not exactly like you can easily fit in, either, I mean… The differences are kinda…”- She generally gestured towards him. –“…Visible.”

As he looked around, Keith knew exactly what she meant. As he had noted the previous day, this realm was so colorful, so chirpy and alive. Unlike him. His attire was mainly black, his skin, having its grey undertone, looked as a lifeless body, and in the shade, it appeared even darker.

In the meantime, Pidge continued her reasoning. –“But isn’t that your mission, or objective or whatever? To be here like a normal student and try to fit in? To vouch for whatever that non-harm pact thing is?”

Keith slowly nodded in response.

-“Then damnit, dude, lighten up a little!”- Just as she spoke, Pidge’s eyes went a little wide, and as she realized her mistake, she waved her hands at him while wearing a sheepish smile. –“Oops, sorry, I, I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk.”- She crossed her arms again. –“I just meant, like… You know, you should at least try to settle in.”- She raised a brow at him. –“Don’t you think making friends will, I don’t know, help you?”

During the entire speech, Keith had been listening to everything the little younger god said with bewildered eyes, not expecting that a being this young would hold such knowledge. But in all fairness, he should have expected it, as again, he was reminded that she was a child of Athena. Knowledge and wisdom would probably be Pidge’s greatest virtues.

And as she finished speaking, Keith lowered his eyebrows as he glanced back forward. –“I’m sorry… I’m just not…”- He gritted his teeth lightly as he paused. –“… In the Underworld, we don’t really make friends.”- He glanced at her. –“We’re either alone or forge pacts that could benefit us. For survival purposes. I guess I never really had a friend because nobody was trustworthy.”- He admitted as he looked back forward with a gloomy gaze. –“Well, other than Thace…”

-“Huh…”- Pidge quietly said, as she leaned forward, resting her forearms by her knees. –“Felt bad leaving your buddy behind?”

Keith subtly, lightly moved his head, as if he had nodded. -“I mean, yeah. He was like… A father to me, if that doesn’t sound… weird…”

Immediately as she took in that information, Pidge strangely frowned. –“… Hold up, your only friend was an old dude?!”

The Hybrid slowly looked towards her, with a look in his eyes that showed how he was not understanding why she was making such a big deal out of that fact, or at least her tone of voice implied so.

–“Yeah…?”

Pidge observed him for a little while longer with an exasperated expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed and mouth gaping. Then, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she sighed tiredly. –“Oh my gods…”- She leaned back, doing a fast shrugging gesture with her hands as she made a face. –“It’s actually worse than I thought…”

Regarding the unexpected answer, Keith lightly scoffed. –“Uhh, thanks for the honesty?”

She eyed him then, and sensing the sarcastic tone coming from his words, which she appreciated, Pidge grinned. –“You’re welcome. Alright, look.”- She settled her forearms by her knees again. –“If you’re okay with it, we can hang out sometime.”

That only drew a confused look out of Keith’s face. –“Uhm…”

-“It means doing stuff together,”- She cared to explain as she rolled her eyes. –“like normal friends do.”

-“People… do that?”

-“Both people and Gods.”- Noticing the deadpan look on Keith’s face regarding her joke, Pidge breathed a small laugh. –“Yes. Yes, it’s a thing. It’s part of a friendship, you know, doing fun stuff with your friends, building memories…”

-“That seems exhausting.”- Keith commented, matter-of-factly.

Which made Pidge laugh. –“Sometimes.”- She shrugged as she looked forward. –“But it’s worth it.”

Such answer made Keith observe the little god with a strange look in his eyes, confused, before he glanced forward, and as he took in the strange foreign landscape into his eyes, he allowed his thoughts to flow.

He had never been the greatest at friendship, and even the actual definition of such concept seemed still foreign to him thus far. As he had stated, friends weren’t made in the Underworld, and if so, that would be a rare occasion. He’d make allies, and that was the closest he was about to get with anyone.

Of course, he had Thace, but he was sure that if it hadn’t been Thace’s connections with his mother, that Keith would have never met him, and probably would have to fend for his own, which could result on his ultimate death. Then again, he couldn’t really call the relationship he had with Thace a friendship.

If Pidge’s words were anything to go by, he hadn’t really built many memories with Thace. Perhaps some nice moments, but then again, the older god was a busy and distant being. Even if he was incredibly understanding. Keith supposed their relationship had always been alike a father-son one, even if it felt distant, for obvious reasons. But it was really all he got from the Underworld.

Aside from when he would go back to his cabin in the dark forest after a long day, which he’d spend hanging out on his porch with a bit of paper and a pencil, or charcoal, and with the company of a creature from the forest. Though he considered the silent creature a friend, he was aware it was more like a pet, as it had the general shape of a dog, an animal humans were so used to have around them.

This creature, thought, it had no fur, and its skin was made of smooth cooled lava rock, with cracks here and there, showing a glowing purple on its inside. Still, pet, or friend, this creature was the only being he got used to have around, other than Thace. He wondered how it was doing now without his presence, too, because truly, Keith was already missing its calming existence by his side.

And so, in silence both Keith and Pidge remained, as Keith kept thinking of her words, as well as reminiscing on his old memories. It actually felt calming now that he thought about it. He was glad Pidge hadn’t questioned the sudden silence either, and even, respected it.

Looking at her from the corner of his eyes, Keith wondered that, perhaps, there was something in her that he saw himself in. A sort of aura that mirrored his, even though Keith couldn’t describe what it was for certain. Only that, somehow, she seemed to be similar, in a way, even if there were jarring differences between the two.

All of a sudden, a loud voice echoed through the air, ending the quiet and calm moment. It sounded strained, but in panic, desperate.

-“PIDGE!!!”

As both looked up, in front of them, they saw a large man hurrying right towards them, who Pidge immediately recognized as Hunk. She noticed how he was already wearing his golden armor, ready for the battle arena for the afternoon.

Once he arrived, he fluidly mimicked the gesture of holding something on both his hands, close to his torso, and then, in a cloud of dust and little fiery sparks, a large iron war hammer appeared on his large hands, as if it had just been forged and submerged into a river of ice.

Approaching, he looked just like a storm that could not be stopped, and when he got close to them, his intense dark eyes fell right upon the god from the Underworld, as he watched the Hybrid shifting from a wide-eyed look to a closed off, defensive glare, and tense body language, alike a wild beast that had been backed away into a corner.

And that warning look was what made Hunk stop on his heels, holding his hammer with a tighter grip, as his fears and cowardice started to flutter over his previous rage. He really didn’t like confrontations and it showed, as he hesitated right now, before the Hybrid from the Underworld.

-“Hunk!”- Pidge started then, with an insanely irritated expression on her eyes, as she gestured widely at him. –“No! No, Hunk, no, put that thing away…"

He glanced at his friend for a little, his stern look breaking just slightly as his cowardice spoke louder just a little. He closed his eyes then, and took a deep breath, before he settled his gaze back on the god from the Underworld, hoping his gaze was, at the very least, a little intimidating.

-“What’s the Galra telling you, Pidge?”- Just then, when his eyes settled back on his friend, his look softened. –“You’re okay? Has he done anything?”

Meanwhile, such hostility, opposing stance and insinuations activated Keith’s fight or flight response. Which used to be pretty much just ‘fight’.

As such, as his intense emotions started to shift into something highly negative, something enraging, his before calm or gloomy indigo eyes suddenly turned into pure darkness, leaving not even the white around it untouched.

From his trembling right hand, which Keith had curled into a fist, dark matter started oozing off of it, slowly, yet as it grew bigger and wider, it quickly became something that wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially as the same darkness started to smoke out of his own shoulder and arm, too. And even as he gritted his teeth, his slightly short yet sharp canines were, as well, becoming visible.

In the meantime, the others kept going with their argument.

–“Honest to gods, Hunk!”- Pidge exclaimed as she pointed with her hand to the god from the Underworld. –“You’re only making things w-!”

-“Woah, woah, _woah_ there!?!”- A different, unfamiliar voice, to Keith, sounded off coming from Hunk’s left.

Keith had little time to see who it belonged to, as the corners of his vision were darkening, but he saw a god wearing a pure blue complete Greek armor, except for the helmet. The guy’s gaze, however, was entirely focused on him, and as it seemed, he looked alarmed and on edge, just like Hunk.

-“What in the Underworld is going on with him?!”- The stranger inquired, probably to his friends, as he pointed towards Keith, and reacting, the others stopped their argument to look at him, too, expressions turning into a mix of bewilderment and fright. –“Is he losing it?”- The guy continued before he paused, eyebrows furrowing. –“Wait…”- He quickly glanced at his friends. –“Is that guy trying to hurt any of you?!”

-“I’M NOT-!“

Just as Keith had snapped, he bit his response down and stopped himself, as he realized how badly he had elevated his voice, probably calling upon quite a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And as the others stared at him with wide eyes, he noticed the pressure he was putting on his own muscles, as the intense way he was frowning and gritting his teeth like an enraged wolf.

He realized, then, that whoever this new guy was, he was right. Keith was really losing it. He could feel his own darkness spilling from his right side, oozing off into the material world, causing not only the other three to stare at him, like all the other students passing by, whose attention had been captured by his shout.

With the reality of the situation settled in his mind, Keith’s expression slowly fell from his previous anger. Keith lowered his gaze to himself, as he blinked his eyes, trying to get his dark matter, which had been activated by his negative emotions, to ease.

In the meantime, the stranger still observed him with a warning gaze, one tainted with a little of confusion, as he really wasn’t understand what was going on with the student of the Underworld. It was then that, after a second or two in silence, he decided to point his accusing finger at the guy.

–“… Listen here, pal, I don’t know who you think you are, but this isn’t the Underworld.”- His frown deepened as he leaned back and crossed his arms. –“So keep in mind that your actions have consequences, here. If you _ever_ hurt my friends, I’ll send you to the _depths of the oceans_.”

So, a Poseidon’s child, Keith assumed.

And even as Keith tried to gain control over his power, while the whole world around him sounded muffled and looked as it was trembling, he was still able to hear the irritated shout that echoed in his mind.

-“LANCE! HUNK!”

Immediately after hearing their names, Lance and Hunk slowly turned their heads to their right, where Pidge stood, with her arms stiff to her sides, fists clenched. The irritation that had been in her voice was plastered all over her facial expression.

–“First of all,”- She started as she raised one finger. –“you’re both dead wrong if you think I need protection. In fact, I could beat you _both_ into oblivion before you even had time to blink!”- She raised up another finger in the same hand. –“Second,”- She rapidly beat the back of her hand against her chest. –“ _I_ approached him!”

Both her friends remained in silence for a little while, before Hunk broke it as his surprised expression turned into a frown. –“… You what?!?”

-“Yeah!”- Pidge crossed her arms. –“I was just curious, okay? You guys know me. Besides, I don’t think he’s something to worry about.”- She said, as she glanced down at Keith. She noticed that the strange thing that had been orbiting around him had vanished, and now he simply looked shaken. –“He’s like… He’s like a puppy.”

Suddenly, hearing the comment, Keith’s now calm, normal indigo eyes went wide, as his raised eyebrow twitched. –“… A what?!”- He inquired as he indignantly looked up.

At that, Pidge smirked. –“Okay, maybe like, a cat.”- She mused as she looked at Hunk.

And Keith did look ready to protest, but before he could, Pidge’s friend spoke up first.

–“That’s kind of an understatement.”- Hunk commented as he looked back at Pidge. It was then that his brown eyes feel upon Keith, as the stern look was back on the big guy’s face, and he never took his eyes off of the stranger as he spoke to his smaller friend. –“… You sure this guy’s cool?”

-“Positive.”- Pidge answered with a final tone.

Hearing his friend’s answer, Hunk looked back at Pidge and observed her for a while, looking as if he was studying the situation and everyone involved in it, even if his expression was still quite suspicious. Or as his friends called it, he was wearing ‘The Look’ in his expression.

But Pidge’s amber eyes looked back at him sternly, never backing down. And in the end, Hunk ended up being the one to give in. Sighing, he lightly shook his war hammer on his loosened grip, and just like the weapon had materialized into the material world within dust and fiery sparks, it ceased to exist.

-“Fine,”- It as clear how there was still a forced tone behind Hunk’s voice, still sounding reluctant. –“if you _really_ think so, then I believe you.”

It was then that his gaze went from Pidge to Keith, who tensed under it, and noticing, Hunk lowered his eyebrows in a friendliest way he could, as a warm smile took over his lips. –“Sorry man…”- He said to him, as he rubbed the back of his head with his hand, and pointed at the strange god with the other. –“You know how it is, we can never be too sure… Because you’re, like…”

-“Because I’m Galra.”- Keith’s assured voice completed exactly what Hunk was trying to say, though it was clear there was a little bit of bitterness in it. –“It get it.”- Once he spoke, his look lowered, as guilt started to creep over his system, and his mind. That because, he had been willing to be violent while facing a problem, right on his first day.

It was true Keith had no idea what the Overworld was like, or how it worked. It had only been a day, and the little Coran was able to explain to him, then Shiro explained even less. And Keith couldn’t blame him. Shiro had been too tired the night prior, as he would finally get a good night rest, and Keith agreed they’d talk more about the Overworld the day after. And although that seemed like the most considerate decision at the time, a selfish part of him was still regretting it, because he was completely lost.

He knew one thing for sure, though. That most gods in the Overworld would rather settle things peacefully rather than through violence, unlike it had been in the Underworld. It was true that once he saw the big god coming at him with a battle hammer ready in hands, Keith felt the same urge to respond to this problem the same way he would have back... home.

But he was glad he hadn’t.

It appeared Coran and Shiro were the only beings trying to help him, at least the day prior to this. However, now, Keith could see Pidge was a potential ally, or… _friend_ …? And Hunk, well, maybe he wasn’t that bad, either.

So because of that, a soft yet still guilty look took over his eyes. –“I’m sorry, too.”- He admitted, with a lower voice. –“I… didn’t want to attack you or anything, I was just getting ready to defend myself.”

Surprisingly, Hunk smiled sheepishly at him, as he rubbed the back of his neck even more. –“Yeah… I’d do that too if I saw a big guy with a huge hammer on his hands glaring right at me, to be honest.”- Regarding his own answer, the big god lightly chuckled.

It was undeniable how Keith looked lost after Hunk had spoken, not really knowing how or what to answer to this. He simply kept staring up at the other god with wide confused eyes, as his mind tried its hardest to understand this interaction. Because really, Keith hadn’t come up with an answer to what Hunk had said. Was an answer even needed…?

In the meantime, Hunk waited a little too long for a response he didn’t get, and once he realized that, he furrowed his eyebrows awkwardly. –“… Heh, okay… So… I’m Hunk,”- He gestured at his own chest. –“you’ve already met Pidge,”- He gestured at her. –“and this is Lance. We’re all best buds. Nice to meet ya, man.”

Once Hunk spoke, Pidge looked from her friends to Keith expectantly. In the meantime, Lance simply lamely waved, with no feeling to it whatsoever, before he crossed his arms over his chest, subtly putting his weight on one hip. It was clear how he had a skeptical look on his face, as he observed the god from the Underworld with a judgmental raised eyebrow.

Keith responded to Hunk by nodding politely. –“It’s uhh… It’s nice to meet you all, too…? Uhm, I’m Keith.”

-“Yeah.”- Lance started, dryly and slowly. –“We know. You’re in our class.”

Reacting to Lance’s statement, Keith raised both his eyebrows. –“Oh. I didn’t notice.”

-“Figured.”

Such passive-aggressive comment coming from the god in the blue armor made Keith frown yet again. Overall, he had decided he liked Pidge, as she seemed to be quite accepting of him, as well as she was actually trying to understand him and, in a way, she seemed to be a little alike him. And Hunk, well, they didn’t have the most pleasant introduction, but now, Hunk seemed to also be a pretty okay guy, who was obviously trying his hardest to be friendly towards Keith.

This guy, Lance, on the other hand… He was being completely insufferable. In the worst kind of way.

-“… Anyway,”- Said Pidge, in a not so obvious attempt to shift the conversation from the tense atmosphere Lance’s comment had settled it on. As she started speaking to her friends, she also turned halfway to point at Keith with her right hand. –“Keith here was telling me about some social stuff about the Underworld and… Not gonna lie, it’s kind of depressing. Long story short… He needs friends.”

Hearing the news, Hunk’s mood shifted from something kind of sad in a sympathetic way, to something more light-hearted and hopeful. –“… Oh?”

In the meantime, however, Lance’s expression remained the same way it had been previously. Defensive, in a way, and skeptical, almost completely lacking of something friendly. –“Yeah, well, good for him.”

Regarding his answer, both his friends looked at him from the side, both wearing not so impressed expressions. Hunk was the one that spoke in a slow voice, as if he was calling out his best friend due to his attitude. –“ _Lance_ …”

However, Lance seemed to not be the least regretful about his attitude, and as his friend spoke, he casually shrugged, even with his arms crossed. –“What?”

-“Don’t be a jackass.”- Pidge bluntly said.

Hearing his friend’s comment, Lance’s face went from a childish pout to an overly-dramatic look, as he gasped loudly and furrowed his eyebrows in indignation. He proceeded to make wide and wild gestures all around himself, all the while making incoherent noises, as he looked from his friends to the Hybrid repeatedly. In a second, he stopped, and as his outraged expression shifted to a pout again, he groaned as he let his shoulders slump and crossed his arms. 

All the while, Keith simply observed the Overworld gods with a strange look, not really understanding what was going on with any of them. He simply watched as Pidge and Hunk shared a look after Lance refused to look at any of them.

After he broke his shared look with Pidge, Hunk lowered his head as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he kept his left hand on his waist. –“Right…”- It was then that he looked up again and somehow his look was friendly, warm and welcoming, as he observed Keith. –“Sorry about Lance,”- As he said his best friend’s name, he looked to his left, from the side of his eyes, at Lance, just briefly, before his gaze settled back on Keith. –“he’s just wary, is all, and can’t control his pettiness.”

Lance’s look shifted from Hunk to his left side again, away from any of them as he grumbled to himself ‘ _look who’s talking’_.

Hunk’s not impressed gaze settled upon his friend again for a brief second. -“I heard that. Anyway…”- He looked back at the Hybrid with a smile, as he placed both hands on his large waist. –“You ready for fighting class? It’ll start in like, thirty.”

In a second, Keith’s mildly awkward and sort of shy gaze shifted into something harder, something serious, as if, suddenly, he was channeling the aura of the soldier within. –“Yes,”- He started, as he lifted his chin. –“I’m always ready for battle.”

Regarding such ominous answer, Hunk’s heavily concerned look took over his face, as he slowly glanced to his right, at Pidge. And once he did look at her, he noticed that she was already staring at him, wearing an expression quite a lot alike his, for the exact same reason.

-“Uhm…”- Pidge started, as she looked back at Keith, with her eyebrows still raised. –“… neat.”

-“You’re uhh, probably gonna feel at home there.”- Hunk said as he forced a polite smile on his face, trying to forget that slightly off exchange. –“I mean, we don’t really have the strictest teacher, so it’s pretty fun.”

Keith nodded at the information. –“Alright… Should we go?”

-“Yeah, c’mon.”- Said Pidge, as she made a causal gesture that meant for him to get up and follow them.

And so, acting upon the request, Keith did get himself up, noting how the fingertips of his right hand felt unusually cold. He supposed, that was because of how his power had been activated, as feeling his extremities cold was a little side effect after every time he called upon his power.

As they walked, Pidge took the lead, having Hunk right behind her and Lance to his left, who appeared to be over his pouty state, though he still looked somewhat guarded. Keith, he simply opted to walk behind them all, and rather than paying attention to the conversation Pidge and Hunk were delving in about some sort of unknown planes of existence, he opted to, instead, look at the scenery all around them.

It was true his eyes were still getting used to all this brightness, alike his tastes, as he was trying to get used to all this life all around him. Rather than the usual death he was used to see in the Underworld. Still, he was beginning to appreciate these new sights and he had to admit that this realm had its own beauty, just in a different way that Keith was not used to experience.

And as they walked through the rest of the park, Keith saw the well-kept greenery of the gardens and all the white buildings around them, give way to a slightly different landscape. As they left the park, the white marble floors ended, and now they were walking by a dirt path, much alike the ones in human towns at the time. The green of the plants was slightly darker, and the dirt, most of it, had a yellow-ish tone to it, alike many rock boulders all around. Even though, they were in no desert, as there were still plenty of patches of wild grass by both sides of the path they were taking.

Keith noted they were walking up after a little while, as he could see the end of the cliffs they were walking on not so far away, to his right side, where it dropped off into the pure blue and now calm ocean.

About that time in their little journey, Keith noticed that the god who was not so friendly towards him, Lance, subtly looked over his shoulder at him, with a cautious look on his face, and once he noticed Keith saw it, he simply looked back forward and made a playful comment about something Hunk had just said.

Keith, however, he simply shrugged off the exchange, not paying too much mind to it.

It was then that, after a little more of walking, they stumbled upon what seemed to be the end of the cliff they were walking on, but the path itself did not stop there. Because, right in front of the edge of the cliff, was a deep ravine, and right in front of it, was the beginning of another cliff, which was where, in the distance, by the mountains, the circular shape of the arena was already visible to them.

The path between ravines was connected by a large, wide and solid wooden bridge, which had some strong log railings to the sides of it.

It was then, that as they were halfway across the bridge, and the conversation between the other three gods had eased, that Keith, on a whim, decided to quicken his pace so he could catch up to Hunk’s right. And once he did, he spoke. –“… So, is this fighting class serious?”

Mildly startled, Hunk shifted his gaze towards him, as for the other two, and in a second, he waved his hand dismissively. –“Oh, totally. I mean, we’re being trained to defend our realms, so, yeah. We’ve gotta do our best out there.”

-“Bold of you to say such things, Hunk.”- Pidge said, as she glanced over her shoulder to look at him, with a teasing tone in her eyes and her smirk.

Hearing his friend’s teasing, Hunk gasped, before he furrowed his eyebrows as a protesting look took over his face. –“I’m not the worst fighter???”

-“Well,”- Lance started, by his left side. –“you’re definitely not the best fighter either, bud.”- Once he spoke, Poseidon’s child patted his friend’s shoulder.

And while for the first part Hunk’s look was slightly offended, it slowly shifted to one of understanding of his friend’s comments. In the end, Hunk ended up agreeing as he nodded his head. –“You know what, I don’t think I can really handle a face-off with Vali, so honestly, I’m good with my ‘ _somewhat mediocre’_ performance in the arena.”

Lance let out a ‘psh’ sound as he collected his arm to himself again, but still looked at his friend. –“Like my mom always used to say, don’t sell yourself short, man. There’s always room for improvement.”

Suddenly, Keith couldn’t keep quiet anymore, since while the other gods were bantering, the conversation sparked some interest in him. So, he decided to interfere. –“Wait, who’s Vali?”

-“A jackass.”- Pidge’s matter-of-factly voice only made Keith raise his eyebrow.

-“How so?”

Hunk cared to elaborate it for him this time. –“Well, the dude thinks he’s like, unbeatable because he’s the best fighter here.”- Hunk leaned a little closer to Keith as he covered part of his mouth with his left hand, as he was speaking in a quieter tone. –“He spreads rumors he could even beat some of the old gods if he wanted to.”- He leaned back to his place, then. –“Basically he’s just a bully.”- There was a pause. –“… Wait, do you guys have bullies in the Underworld…?”

-“Pft, they’re all bullies.”- Lance remarked as he subtly looked at Keith from Hunk’s side, just briefly.

Such comment which made Keith frown. –“Yes.”- He sternly answered as he directed his frown for a little bit towards Lance, before his gaze settled back on Hunk. –“I’m aware of what bullies are.”

-“Well,”- Hunk said as he shrugged. –“there you go.”

In the meantime, they have reached the end of the bridge, and once in land again, Pidge glanced back at them over her shoulder. –“He’s insanely good, though. One day he threw his axe right at a kid’s head.”

Such callback made Lance visually cringe. –“Oof, that day was… messy.”

Pidge nodded before she settled her gaze back on Keith, who was carefully listening. –“Mhm. Plus, the guy is all the kinds of jerk one can be. You know, doesn’t take women seriously, makes some jokes about some realms, is kind of a homophobe, so, yeah, he’s ‘ _the whole package_ ’.”- She ended her statement making quotation marks.

Before such information, there was a little twitch in Keith’s serious face, one that almost gave way to a frown, but it never came to that. He did understand everything Pidge had said, and now he could see how the Norse god was seen as an antagonist by these three gods. If Keith himself was being fairly honest, he, too, did not think he’d be the biggest fan of this Vali god, either. There were just too many things in those two sentences Pidge had said that ticked him off.

Plus, some did hit closer to heart than others.

He kept on walking in silence, as all the others, until he lowered his gaze, just slightly, to the path before him, and spoke with a low voice. -“Mmm. I see.”

There was no response after.

Once they’ve arrived to the arena’s archway, Keith found himself looking up at it, until the back of his neck hurt. It truly was not alike the arena he was used to fight in, which was just as tall as a two-store home. This one, this was as grand as the palace of the Under-Lord, and it was just an arena. It wasn’t even as great as the palace he had seen when he arrived to this realm.

And again, the arena was so, so bright, just alike anything in this realm. Made of the purest white marble, with columns all along its circular shape. There were statues adorning every single archway on the second floor and beyond, of many gods and creatures with great history, Keith assumed.

When they crossed the large hallway, they were bathed in a slight darkness, as the tunnel they were walking through was mildly long, but in seconds, they stepped out into the arena’s floor. All around them, taking over the skies, were the endless rows of seats, and in the middle of the arena, the baby blue sky, bearing no cloud today, complimented the white pigment of the marble with gentleness.

The sand on the arena’s floor was not grey as the one he had stepped on many and many times on his daily life back in the Underworld, but this one, instead, was a mix of orange and cream, which gave even more life to the color palette of the amphitheater.

Though there were some students sitting by the nearest rows of seats around the arena, mostly of other classes, there were more gods in the actual arena itself, getting ready for their class. Many were already wearing their armor, alike Hunk and Lance, while others were choosing theirs so they could get changed.

There were weapon stands everywhere, many pieces of armor with so many shapes and sizes and colors and styles everywhere to be picked. Alike a large variety of weapons, though those looked quite simple, alike the ones humans would wear, instead of looking and having unique proprieties like the weapons forged by gods had.

Keith had to admit to himself that, even though this wasn’t the arena he almost lost his life in countless times, it still made him feel, sort of, more eased. This ambient, of a before battle scenario, he was used to it. It was familiar and, consequently, calming. In its own, weird way. Even if the aesthetic and still quite cheerful vibe of the place made it feel slightly off to him.

But still, seeing these gods getting ready, choosing their armor and weapons carefully, observing the attentive looks on their faces as they focused on their task, it was something that made Keith feel less anxious.

Once they were generally by the middle of the amphitheater, they came to a stop, right when Pidge turned around to face him. –“And welcome to our not so humble training arena.”- She announced with a grin on her face, as she held her arms by her sides widely. –“Pretty cool, right?”

-“It’s impressive.”- Keith responded with a little subtle smile on his face.

Right when he spoke, behind him, slightly to his left, Hunk started chuckling nervously. –“Cool! Hey, uhh, why won’t you, like, settle in and-“- As he spoke, he placed his large hands, each over Keith’s shoulders, who seemed to be taken by surprise and confusion, and spun the Underworld god to the left –“get some gear ready, huh?”- He said as he placed his hands on his waist. –“You probably need some armor.”

Regarding the sudden strange tone from the bigger god, Keith glanced over his shoulder at him with a little confused frown. –“Okay, sure…?”

Hunk smiled brightly as he nodded and raised a thumbs up with both his hands. To which in response, Keith lifted an eyebrow, but did not question anything, as he shrugged, turned back around and made his way to the armor and weapon stands Hunk hand pointed him to.

In the meantime, Hunk smiled and waved. –“No problem! Call if you need help!”- And once he understood that the Underworld god was at a fairly decent distance from them, he turned right around to face Pidge, and right then, the friendly look on his face turned into something exasperated.

–“Pidge, what the quiznak?!”

Facing the sudden change in her friend’s demeanor, Pidge dumbly stared at him for a split second before she furrowed her eyebrows. –“What?!”

Hunk gaped before he made some wide gestures in the air, hoping she’d understand, but in a second, he abruptly stopped and dropped his shoulders. –“Like, did we seriously just accept the Underworld student into _our group_??”

Right then, Lance showed up by Hunk’s left and swiftly placed his forearm over Hunk’s left shoulder, as he leaned into his bigger friend. –“I mean, we can always dump him whenever.”- As he spoke, he made a gesture with his hand, while a sly grin took over his face.

Such suggestion that made Pidge tiredly sigh when her amber eyes fell upon her friend. –“Lance…”

Reacting to his friend’s ‘done’ voice, Lance’s grin widened. –“Just laying down some options here.”- He mused as he closed his eyes and lifted his chin.

Regarding her friend’s answer, Pidge stared at him with a deadpan look, while she crossed her arms over her chest a little too tightly. Then, when she diverted her gaze to Hunk, she saw how the bigger god was about to open his mouth to say something, but she just held up her finger, making him immediately shut his mouth.

-“Nope, don’t even say anything I already know what you’re gonna say.”- She, then, adapted a mocking posture as she overly-dramatically imitated her friend. –“‘ _Oh no, Pidge, it is dangerous because we’re welcoming_ a murderer _in our group!_ ’”

Lance, still on Hunk’s side, now lost his grin, and a fully serious expression, accompanied with a frown, took over his face. –“That’s because we _are_!”

-“He’s a _diplomat_!”- Pidge protested back, as she leaned forward. –“He’s not gonna go around on a killing spree!”

Meanwhile, Hunk had his right hand over his chin, having his elbow supported on his left arm that was across his chest. He hummed as he subtly raised an eyebrow, before he spoke. –“Well, to be honest,”- He slightly leaned his hand forward, not away from his chin. –“for a diplomat he doesn’t seem very, well, _diplomatic_. I mean,”- He crossed his arms. –“he was basically just sitting alone before you showed, right? Isn’t he supposed to, I don’t know, actively trying to make allies?”

Pidge lost the previous edge on her expression, and voice, as she was faced with those facts. –“… Well, yeah…”

That was when Lance shimmed into the conversation, still having his forearm over Hunk’s shoulder, and now, he raised a finger in the air. –“And not to add more dirt into this but, he also kinda did that demonic shadow stuff thingy with his hand like if he was about to kill us,”- Lance cared to make a wiggly gesture with his fingers, as if he was symbolizing the gesture Keith had done earlier. –“which was kinda freaky…”

Hunk nodded. –“True. And he also doesn’t sound like he could be someone who’s, like, able to keep it cool? Imagine he’s in a debate or whatever and he just goes off.”

-“Guys,”- Pidge began, with a serious voice, mirroring the look on her face. –“seriously, just stop.”- She extended her right arm to the right, pointing to the general direction Keith was at. –“The dude’s just as terrified of being here as we’re terrified of having him here. Give him a break, honestly, I mean this is such a different experience for him because apparently, the Underworld is very different from the Overworld. He’s basically lost. Just look at him…”

And as their friend requested, Lance and Hunk followed Pidge’s gesture, and laid their eyes upon Keith.

By the stands where the Hybrid was at, there weren’t many beings next to him, only some passing by. Keith himself was intently staring at a weapon stand by the trio’s left, having one arm over his chest, and a hand on his chin. It was clear, by the furrow of his eyebrows, that he was well focused on his own thoughts, probably debating over which weapon he should chose.

A little second later, he decided to reach out for a simple-looking mace. He felt it on his hand, its weight, trying to inspect if the weapon truly was something he could use. Decided that it was good enough, Keith turned around and walked to a dummy that was some meters behind him, by the wall of the arena. Keith, then, got himself in a fighting stance, and sent a strike, with the mace, against the dummy’s head.

Unfortunately, the mace itself got stuck on the dummy’s head, and realizing, Keith’s alarmed face appeared for a flash of a second, before he tried to pull the mace out of the dummy. And he was, well, half successful, as he did retrieve part of the mace from the dummy - its handle - though its actual spikey sphere stayed stuck to the dummy’s head.

Keith stood back with a big-eyed look as he gazed at the piece of wood on his hand and the rest of the mace on the dummy. Acting quickly, he looked around before he swiftly leaned down, placed the mace’s broken handle behind the dummy’s feet, and then jumped back up again. He looked around again as he placed his hands behind his back, and tried to, subtly, walk back over to the weapon stand, as if nothing happened.

However, as he was walking to the weapon stand, still looking behind to see if anyone noticed his mistake, he was startled by a sudden voice.

-“Well, hello there!!”

Keith actually jumped back, making a little alarmed noise as he did so, and even ended up being in a half defensive stance. It was then that he noticed a god looking at him, probably one of the maintenance people that took care of the arena.

In the meantime, the guy giggled at the Underworld god’s reaction. –“You silly one! You need a weapon if you wanna fight! Here, let me help.”- He said as he waved up and down with his hand.

As Keith curiously observed what the man was doing, the maintenance worker placed a hand on his chin as he looked over at the weapon stand, as he hummed, and in a matter of seconds, his expression seemed to light up. He reached down and brought up, with both hands, a large battle axe, almost as tall as both the gods. He proceeded to, very quickly, dump it on Keith’s forearms, who had brought them up to catch the incoming weapon.

-“Oh and you need armor, too!”

Just as he said that, the god turned to his left, by the arena’s wall, and searched for a set of armor in a container full of random armor pieces. He proceeded to pick each piece and piled it all up on Keith’s arms.

-“And…”- The god said just as he was placing the helmet on top of the pile on Keith’s arms, whose face was now all covered by a giant wall of metal. –“here you go!”- The maintenance worker said as he was walking off. –“You’re welcome, dear!”

Keith stayed put for at least five seconds longer, as, probably, a very confused expression was taking over his face. And even when he spoke, his voice sounded muffled because of the armor in front of his face. –“Uh… thanks…?”

Meanwhile, Lance, Hunk and Pidge were watching the scene. It was then that Pidge slowly looked to her left, at both her friends who were still staring at Keith. –“Like I was saying... harmless and confused as hell.”

It was then that Hunk’s expression fell, as he glanced at his little friend with a sincere look. –“I don’t know… It’s just hard to trust someone from his realm…”- He crossed his arms. –“I mean I’m trying, alright?”

-“Yeah, at least _some_ of us are trying…”- It was clear, by the way Pidge bolded her statement and leaned forward to look beyond Hunk’s left, that she was hinting towards Lance.

And, noticing, he, too, leaned forward to face Pidge. –“Look, it’s not my fault the guy just jumped into ‘attack mode’… and besides, I don’t like his vibe. He’s _fishy_.”

Regarding such response, Pidge simply sighed. –“Just at least try to give him a chance…”

As Pidge spoke, both she and Hunk looked over at Lance with awaiting expressions, ones that very suspiciously looked like both were trying to persuade him with some sort of light form of the puppy eyes.

Because of that, Lance crossed his arms as he buried his neck on his shoulders, and pouted.

_-“Fiiine.”_

 

A little later, they were all set. Lance and Hunk already had their classic Greek armor on, and now, both had their helmets. Hunk’s was of a golden color, though had no fur nor fluff on top of it. Instead, its top was adorned by a little half circle that went along with the helmet’s shape. Lance’s, on the other hand, had fluff instead of said circle. It started straight and stiff on the front, and as it fell back, it fell upon his neck. His helmet, which was open, covered the sides of his cheeks with a rectangle on each side obliquely coming down.

In the meantime, by their side, Pidge was, well… Ready. In her own, Pidge-like way. And by that, it meant that Pidge was fully wearing, from head to toe, a full iron Berserker armor, that was so big on her, that her huge shoulder plates were an obvious and quite hilarious contrast against her noodle arms.

Still she looked pretty amused, and quite confident on herself. She even had a small double-edged axe that she simply neglected as she just tossed it on the ground next to her feet.

It was then, as the three were gleefully chatting along, that they heard clank noises approaching, and of course, reacting to the strange sound, they all slowly turned to its general direction to see what that was all about.

Turned out there was a being coming at them a full mismatched armor. The right arm had Viking attire, alike the shoulder pad and the wrist armor. The torso was a bland Greek breastplate with little to no detail and the left arm was covered by nothing but a bandage glove. There was a Greek skirt coming down to the being’s knees, matching the breastplate, and the legs were covered by some sort of bronze beefy armor. Finally, the being’s head was completely covered by a shining silver knightly helmet, having a beige fluffy plume coming down its back. Lastly, the being was carrying a completely huge double-edged battle axe.

He set the axe down with a little grunt, as its edge stick into the dirt, and its wooden end was sticking up. It was then that the fighter reached for his helmet’s visor, and made a show of rising it, as it creaked and squealed with the slow motion.

Of course, not so surprisingly, the lack of visor gave away Keith’s frowning face.

There was a moment of silence as each god stared at him with subtly wide eyes, not fully comprehending how they should react next to this. But, obviously, there was only one way of going about this situation, and apparently, all three figured it out without even needing to communicate, because, suddenly, all three cracked and started laughing.

Keith’s unimpressed face dropped even more at the sight of it.

As she wheezed, Pidge dried a tear out of her eye and tried to contain herself. –“Wow,”- She giggled a little more as she held onto her stomach with a hand. –“…nice look.”

-“Hah!”- Lance straightened himself up as a look took over his eyes, something sly, accompanied with a fitting grin and a quirk of an eyebrow. –“It just looks like it’s ‘ _wear all your outfits at once’_ day and you’re eagerly participating in it.”

Hearing the comments, Keith groaned loudly as he stuck the battle axe more firmly to the ground, to his left side, and kept on holding it with his left hand. It was then that Keith looked to the side as he muttered. –“This is ridiculous…”

-“Your outfit?”- Lance countered as he crossed his arms, his expression growing even more amused. –“Totally.”

Regarding the comment, Keith turned his head to face the other god, as he wore an impatient frown on his face. –“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

However, Lance simply shrugged, his grin never leaving his lips. –“Like many other great things in life, my opinion is for free.”- Once he spoke, he glanced back at the Underworld god with a smug grin, as Pidge and Hunk groaned in the background.

The seriousness on Keith’s face never left him, even after the joke. -“Sure… Say whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.”

Regarding Keith’s slash, Lance’s smug smiling expression turned into a surprised one in a second, and as he started to appear a little offended and wanted to fight back, Hunk came into the conversation before anything else could be said.

-“Ha, ha, okay..! Nice!”- Hunk’s nervous voice was extremely obvious, but his friends appreciated his effort. –“Uhh, so, yeah,”- He looked at Keith. –“now we wait for our teacher and we just do whatever he says.”

Keith sighed, and let his shoulders fall with the motion, as his head lowered a little. But in a second, he raised his eyes to meet Hunk, even though he hadn’t lifted his head at all. And his voice, sounded almost tired now. –“Can I _at least_ take this thing off and use my weapon?”

-“Oh, yeah-“

Without even meaning to, Pidge started to speak over Hunk’s answer, but he stopped to let her speak anyway. –“The weapons are just there for the gods who still have no godly weapon, or for beginners.”

Hearing the explanation, Keith released a relieved sigh. –“Thank Hades.”

 

 

…

 

 

The classes had started just a little bit after Keith managed to strip himself out of the horrible armor set and ditch the giant axe, so he could be back on his clothes.

And well, these classes were definitely not like what Keith had been expecting. These were quite chilled out, even after Hunk had told him that these could be a pretty big deal since they were being trained to defend their realm and others of the Overworld.

However, this class in particular was even more chilled out for Keith in specific. That was because this was his first day, and the teacher had told him he didn’t want Keith going into an arena fight just yet. Instead, the teacher wanted to study him closely, to evaluate how he fought so later he could work on trying to train the new god and assort interesting matchups for his upcoming arena fights.

That was why, as the others were warming up, the teacher hovered around Keith as he did a series of small little tests. First off, he trained with the dummies, alike many other students were doing in the arena. A simple exercise. And though Keith thought he’d spend the class around these new group of people he was befriending, he wasn’t too displeased about that either.

It was while the others ran, did obstacle courses and kept on doing various other training exercises, that Keith was moved out from the dummies and had a little spar with the teacher, who had requested it. Of course, there was no usage of powers in the spar, they could simply use their weapons and their fighting techniques. But even without all the flashy powers, the attention of the other students was sometimes, randomly caught by the sparring.

Keith noticed, mainly, a large Viking guy observing him many times during the sparring, with a distant, heavy gaze settled upon him. A Gaze that would be kept for a long amount of seconds, before he looked away again, off to do his own thing. Keith did find it a little bizarre, and truly, he didn’t like the way this god was observing him. Nonetheless, he couldn’t really do anything about it, so he just ignored it.

When the teacher decided that his spar with the Underworld god had gone for long enough, they both ended the match and that was when the teacher gathered up the rest of the students. There, he announced that the arena matchups were about to begin, and he’d like for everyone to head over to the outside walls of the arena, maybe take some seats if they’d like, and only he and two names he’d announce would stay in the arena. When the spar between the random students was over, he’d swap those for two more names.

In the end, not everybody fought, as there was not much time left for everybody to spar. Some students even managed to escape their duty to actually participate in a matchup.

Like Pidge. The group wasn’t really sure what Pidge pulled off, if they were being honest, especially Keith, but she just walked up to the teacher, had a hushed little conversation with him, and then the teacher nodded and gestured for her to go back to the seats. And even when Pidge came back to them and was asked about what she said to convince the teacher, she did not budge.

However, Keith was able, in the next fight, to see Hunk participate in it.

And truth be told, Hunk wasn’t exactly what Keith expected him to be in the arena. The Underworld god did figure that he was a heavy fighter. That had to be his class. And a heavy fighter was usually slow, however, whenever any hits would land, they would cause devastating damage. They were best at defense as well, but if they had the time, they could also attempt to attack.

Hunk was sort of different, though. Well, Keith was sure there was potential for Hunk to actually be an incredible heavy fighter, but he was not putting in the effort. Or, rather, the confidence in himself nor his moves. He was sloppy and his reflexes were all over the place. Most of all, Keith noticed the biggest flaw on the big god: hesitation.

He didn’t really know why Hunk would hesitate, even though he did hesitate a little when he was threatening Keith with his hammer, as dark matter started to materialize on Keith’s palm. Keith played up as he hadn’t noticed, but he had seen the way a flash of fear and hesitation passed by Hunk’s eyes as he saw the smoke.

Either way, Keith was only seeing this about Hunk, because he got to observe the god in a combat. He was oblivious with beings, not too good with many kinds of social interaction, only formal ones Thace had taught him since young. But for centuries, he was trained to be the best soldier he could be in the Underworld, and that wasn’t only physical.

He was taught to psychoanalyze his opponents, or anyone in that matter, in the battle field. Hence why, after so many years of learning and experiences, he managed to decently spot what was wrong with Hunk’s technique. However, Keith was certain, that if there were present an actual Galra official like his old instructor, they would surely point out way more than Keith had noticed about Hunk’s fighting.

There were some instances in the fight, too, that it appeared like Hunk was attempting to just escape the fight completely, even if it were subtly. But by the way his movements were being made, combined with his facial expressions alike, it was clear to Akira that he was trying to get away.

Perhaps Hunk was some sort of pacifist. Keith wasn’t too sure. Perhaps he was just overanalyzing it.

Though Keith did sympathize with Hunk’s escape attempts and fighting style. He, too, had been like that one day, long centuries ago. When he was a little scared boy who had just started his fighting practices in the Underworld.

It was then that, by the middle of the fight, the teacher pointed out Hunk’s shaky stance, wobbly moves and hesitation. Perhaps that was when a fire lit up on Hunk’s demeanor, because it appeared that he stood a little taller after hearing the teacher’s words.

And he stayed still for some little seconds, before a large boost of energy cursed through him, as well as confidence, which made him go for it. He lunged himself forward, hammer risen, and wielded it as best as he could, swinging it here and there, with a brutal force. The hits that actually met the target, made his opponent almost fall flat on the sand.

However, Hunk lacked what seemed to be balance and battle experience, even when he wasn’t hesitating. His moves were brutal but not polished. There were little too much seconds spent by him recovering from each swing he made, as he tried to collect the hammer to himself. And by the end of the day, that was what made him lose the battle. His unrefined movements.

A fast yet strong swing of the spear of his opponent that went straight to his kneecaps, was what got him off his feet, and consequently, out of the fight.

After the fight, the teacher walked over to the two fighters and gave them some commentary, alike what they did right and wrong, and what they should work on. Then, Hunk turned around to his friends, dusted a little bit of sand off his helmet, and walked towards them with a smile.

Right when he stopped in front of the half wall that separated him from the other three, Lance, the one the furthest to Hunk’s right, seemed to be beaming as he was jumped quickly on his feet.

-“Hey man, good job out there!”- Lance exclaimed as he raised his hand for a hi5, and beaming, too, Hunk took it. Immediately after, Lance collected his hand and pointed a finger gun at his best friend. –“There’s a long way ahead of ya, but you’re improving a lot.”

In the middle of the other two, Pidge had some sort of enthusiastic look mixed with a tint of mischievousness in her eyes, as she had both her curled fists against her face. –“That random boost of energy was sick!”

She also proceeded to hi5 Hunk, who took it as he lightly chuckled. –“Aww guys, thanks!”

Lance, then, leaned against the half wall, as he folded his arms on top of it. –“No need to thank us, amigo, just know you’re awesome.”

In the meantime, Pidge nodded, before her glowing eyes settled to her right. –“Hey, Keith, whatcha’ gotta say about Hunk’s performance?”

That was when Keith felt all their eyes turn to him, as well as, in the meantime, he also felt a small knot in his stomach. The latter which he ignored as he swallowed a little.

-“… Uhm, yeah,”- He had his arms crossed at the time, and then, without uncrossing them, he pointed a hand, lightly, at Hunk. –“I mean you were good. I just noticed you hesitate so try not to.”- He placed his risen hand on its previous spot on his folded arms. –“And uhh you’ve gotta work on your concentration. But besides that, you were fine.”

In the meantime, to his left, Lance hunched his shoulders as he crossed his arms. He glanced to his left, away from the others, with a frown on his face, eyes narrowed, as he muttered to himself: –“ _Someone’s_ a critic…”

Such comment, however, was not heard by the others, or was at least ignored. That because, as well, Hunk started to reply to the Underworld god right at the same time.

–“Nah, dude, you don’t need to sugar coat it, I can take it.”- Hunk explained as he lifted his palms slightly to the air, by his chest level. –“Look, I know I’m not the best fighter, heck I’m not even in the average, but I’m trying.”- A light smile appeared on his face, then. –“Thanks for the advice though.”

And before such warm smile, Keith mimicked it with one of his own, though it was subtler. –“Anytime.”

That was when, before any other could start a conversation or intervene on this one, the loud voice of their teacher was heard, as he called for the next student to fight in the arena. After the name of the god was spoken, there was cheering from many students.

As the group peered at the arena to see what the fuss was about, they saw a large god walking into the arena, as he swung himself over the half wall effortlessly.

He wore makeshift iron armor, which really did not cover much of his body. Mainly, it covered his shoulders, chest but not stomach, his forearms and his lower leg. All of the iron was accompanied with leather and beige fur, and his torso was covered with a dark green shirt, as well as his legs with brown pants. Finally, his head was covered by a large iron helmet, adorned with large rolled horns.

In the middle of the arena, the Viking raised his left arm to the air, and within sparks of fire, a large double-edged battle axe appeared in his hand.

In the group, the first one to break silence was Hunk, as his look shifted from a big-eyed expression, to a furrow of his eyebrows and a mistrustful gaze. –“Uh oh…”

-“There he is…”- Said Lance, with a deadpan look in his eyes.

As he glanced around the group with a raised eyebrow, Keith clearly put the pieces together. He nodded towards the arena as he asked: -“Is this the guy?”

-“Yep.”- Pidge pretty much immediately answered, with a dry voice, mirroring her expression. –“The idiot himself.”

Hearing the answer, Keith glanced back at the arena to the giant Viking, who was standing on the same spot, right in the middle. Vali brought his battle axe in the air countless times as he roared a war cry that echoed throughout the whole amphitheater, said in words Keith did not understand.

And in silence, all four students watched the Norse god, with mildly concerned looks on their faces. It was then, that Hunk broke the silence. –“… _Well_ ,”- After he crossed his arms, he pointed a thumb over to the arena. –“at least I’m done with the arena fights for today. I’m glad it’s not me going down there _now_.”

At the same time, Pidge leaned back as she smirked. –“Glad I managed to, once again, escape the arena fights.”

Keith raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her, to his left. –“You know, you can probably benefit from each fight.”

She looked up at him then, and with the same mischievous smirk, she adjusted her glasses as she said: -“I can benefit from them even more if I don’t partake in them.”

To their left, Lance quietly laughed as he leaned his folded arms further on the half wall, before he faced his little friend with a playful grin of his own. –“Pidge, the little gremlin berserker who’s always looking for trouble, yet in fighting class, you avoid fights.”

In response, Pidge simply shrugged. –“What’s the point of it if I can’t play by my own rules?”

Seeing his little friend’s mischievous hint in her eyes as she said such thing, made a small mistrustful and confused glint appear in Hunk’s face. –“… That’s… not how fights work…”

-“Again, bold of you to say such thing, Hunk.”

As Hunk gasped in an exasperated way, Lance brought himself up from his leaning position and leaned the left side of his waist on the half wall instead, as he faced his friends.

-“Either way, against Vali, _everything_ is valid.”- In the background, Pidge groaned, which made Lance’s grin widen. –“No pun intended.”- He, then, nodded towards the arena. –“I do feel bad for whoever’s gonna get in there next, though.”

 

 

…

 

 

Life was full of ironies, Lance discovered.

Whether he was expecting it – which he should have – or not, his name had been the one his teacher called to the arena, just some minutes after Vali’s own name was called. He had blinked in surprise when that happened, and even asked Hunk to pinch him – which his best friend did, much to Lance’s dismay.

And just like that, all in a matter of minutes, there he was, standing in the opposite side of the ring considering Vali’s side.

As he took a long deep breath, Lance closed his eyes and demanded his mind to focus, even just for a little, to prepare himself for the upcoming fight. He made sure he had his helmet on, which, check, he did. All his armor felt like it was on the way it should, too. Now all he was lacking, was his weapon.

Releasing his breath, Lance extended his left arm as forward as it’d go, having his hand curled in a fist having a little space in between his fingers. The inside of his hand, just as his mind was focusing on his demand, started feeling colder by the second, until a cloud of frost took a large shape beyond his hands, especially to the sides.

When Lance felt the cold growing cozy, as his body adjusted to it, he opened his eyes, just in time to see the last sparks of frost falling to melt on the ground of the arena. And where before, in his hand, was nothing, now, a large ice bow took over.

It was large and sharp, its ice looking matted rather than see-through alike glass. It was also not smooth. Instead, it was quite the opposite. The ice, even though it mimicked the shape of a bow perfectly, was uneven and, in a way, rocky. The only thing seeming regular on the bow was its string, looking as good as new.

A light smirk appeared on his face as it registered on his mind that, once again, his weapon did come to aid him, unlike how, sometimes, he feared that it wouldn’t. Yet, instead of dwelling on how many ways things could go wrong, Lance took another deep breath, as he held his bow, now, slightly oblique.

Gently, his other, unoccupied hand went to touch the string lightly, and slowly, he brought it backwards, stopping mere inches away from his cheek, which was covered by the side of his helmet. Magically, after half a second of the previous movement of the string, an ice arrow appeared on the bow and right between Lance’s fingers.

It came to life just like the bow had, in a cloud of frost and icy bits. The arrow itself was not shaped as a regular arrow. Instead, its tail part was thin yet a little wide, and it narrowed down until its spikey tip. It was not smooth either, as many little ice spikes came out of its sides, facing backwards.

Lance’s eyes were right on the tip of the arrow, and as he observed its trajectory, his eyes slowly fell upon the Viking, who was still raising his hands in abrupt movements, trying and succeeding to get the crowd to cheer, which also psyched him up.

Letting a little rush of air escaping his nose, sounding almost like a light breathy scoff, Lance allowed his eyes to trail to the side.

To his left, he found his friends – and the Underworld god – engaging in what seemed to be a conversation. Hunk was widely gesturing to the foreign god, as Pidge stood in the middle, seeming to complete his sentences. All the while, Keith appeared to be quiet, only moving his mouth to speak every so often.

And even though Lance wanted to make a comment about it, over how his friends probably shouldn’t be so friendly towards _a literal_ Galra, one of those who completely ruined the Overworld, and still were, he didn’t. He felt as though he had spoken enough, and if his warnings were not enough to convince his friends, then so be it.

His mind would still go back to the moment the strange god’s hand was taken over by a dark, slimy fog, ready to hurt whoever dared to step any closer.

Yet again, his mind also reminded him how he did promise Pidge to give the god a chance. After all, Pidge and Hunk were, in his eyes, rarely wrong. And if Pidge managed to convince Hunk, who was the best judge of character Lance has ever met, to try to be friendly to the Underworld god, could Lance even question them? Could he even say anything after Hunk had, too, welcomed Keith into the group?

Of course not.

They were his friends. He couldn’t just pester them about their decisions, even if he did not agree too much with them. All he could do was to stand behind them and support them, and if things did go wrong, he’d help them fix it. Because, in his mind, that’s what friends do. Help each other. Trust each other.

But the dark look in the Underworld god’s eyes…

Before his mind even had time to start racing with a new wave of worry about his new _foe_ , however, Vali’s loud voice muffled over his thoughts, making Lance switch his focused gaze towards him once again.

The Norse god had the axe held high still, and as he noted Lance’s focus was back on him, Vali brought down the axe to his chest, holding it, now, with both his hands. He looked down at it as he felt its weight, and once he glanced at Lance once more, he spoke in a language Lance could understand.

-“This… will surely be _interesting_.”

The grim tone of such statement, said in such a grave way, could have been interpreted as something to fear. However, Lance chose to, not surprisingly, ignore that undertone, perhaps to make himself feel more confident about this match up and not let such comment bring him down.

Instead, he lowered his bow from his face, and the focused expression he wore before, was replaced by a gradual smug grin. He chuckled at the Norse god’s statement, noting how it might have sounded a little bit forced, but he did not mind.

It was then that Lance brought the bow almost horizontally to his waist level, arrow still notched, ready to be fired right at his target. His eyes left his target for a little, as he tilted his head to his right side subtly, and mused: –“ _Yeah,_ more interesting than you’ll ever manage be in your life, how does that feel for ya?”

Said taunt, though, was completely ignored by Vali. Any bit of amusement was drained from his features, and now, he simply focused his intense live green eyes on the Greek god. –“We shall see if your words measure up to your abilities.”- Even his voice, as he spoke, was grimmer.

Which was the complete contrast regarding Lance’s playful yet taunting expression. -“Easy-peasy, my good sir.”- He mused as he adjusted the position of his bow.

In response to the joking tone coming from Poseidon’s child, Vali simply grunted, which was exactly when the bell rang, marking the beginning of the fight.

And so, it commenced.

Immediately after the bell rang and Vali started to walk forward, Lance let go of his first arrow, as he fired a quick shot. And even though firing one of those was less accurate, Lance’s arrow was still on target.

The arrow itself made its journey upward, only being blocked from Vali’s face by his own hand, which moved up just at the right pace. There was a large impact made as the arrow broke against the back of the Norse god’s hand, sounding alike glass being shattered.

But the arrow did its job.

It did not pierce the god’s hand, as the usage of any weapon lethally was completely illegal in the academy. Even as the gods wielded their own godly weapons, no matter how deadly those were, they couldn’t be used for such. So, Lance, of course, had to use a variation of his arrows that only stung and froze, but had no potential to impale anything.

Grunting, the Norse god looked down at his stinging hand, finding the back of it completely frozen, and even some parts of the frost escaped inside the god’s tight grip, proving it rather uncomfortable to wield his battle axe.

Yet again, nothing a berserker like the god would let get over his head. He’d endure it. Pain was his friend. It’d fuel him, his anger, to fight through the rest of the battle in a fiercer way.

As his eyes met his opponent, he saw the Poseidon’s child taunting him with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. And said gesture, alike the stinging pain, only urged the Child of Odin to fight back harder. So, with an ungodly growl, and a heart full of fury, the Norse god charged forward.

Surprised with the sudden charge, Lance felt his eyes blow wide with panic. There were some flashes of seconds of delay that passed by, before his body reacted upon his screaming warning thoughts. He hastily, almost clumsily, drew the string of his bow, an arrow appeared once more, and he fired it as quickly as he could, proceeding to, then, repeat the same process two more times.

This first shot was merely dodged by Vali as he ducked his head mid-run. As he saw the second coming, he raised his axe, in between his hands, up, and the arrow landed right on the wooden body of it, freezing a large part of it, though it was not able to reach the god’s hands.

At last, the final arrow had such a brief delay between itself and the previous one, that Vali was not able to dodge it nor block it. As such, it shattered right as it landed on his chest, and froze a good portion of it.

Vali felt most the air in his lungs rush out as the impact affected him. But he was thankful to the gods that he was born strong, and as a Norse god, the cold was not anything that he wasn’t used to, even if it weren’t part of his godly powers.

So even though the hit had made him slow down his charge, and miss a couple of steps, Vali was quick to recover, and in no time, he was back rushing forward alike before, even with a portion of his chest frozen. He was willing to do anything to cut the distance between the Greek god and himself, because he knew Lance was not the greatest at combat in close quarters.

His weapon took the form of a bow, for gods’ sake. Up close, he was an easy target.

And Lance knew that. It was because of that, when he saw that his shot did little to no damage to the Norse god, who continued to rush towards him, Lance started to walk backwards as he notched more arrows and frantically shot them.

With an overly-worried expression on his face, Lance watched as his aim started to grow sloppy, because of the way some of his shots were missing. And as he kept on worrying about that, the more he felt his heartbeat raise, the more his hands trembled, and the more he missed.

Though, luck seemed to be on his side. Perhaps Artemis had blessed him with a lucky shot, because an arrow managed to land on the tip of Vali’s boot, purging him to the ground.

The Norse god grunted and growled as he tried to pry his boot from the ground. The thought that he could potentially just leave his boot behind and continue this fight barefoot did cross his mind, too, but once he tried to slide his foot off the boot, he found that the ice of the arrow had also infiltrated his boot, and froze his foot with it.

So, the only way was to pry it off the ground, and surely, it should have been easier to break the little ice blast that was covering both Vali’s foot and the ground before it.

Still astonished with his shot, as he felt as though it had been unbelievable that he had landed such hit which had such effect, Lance felt the corners of his lips slowly raise. Although, his surprised gaze turned to a smug look and a confident grin in no time, as he leaned himself upright.

-“Hah!”- As Lance started, he placed his unoccupied hand over his chest. –“Yep, you were absolutely right, Vali, this _really is_ being interesting.”

 

When the hit had landed, the crowd had gone wild with surprised cheering. Though many appreciated Vali’s strength, mostly out of fear, they also enjoyed to root for the underdog. Who didn’t?

Lance’s friends specifically, cheered the loudest.

-“Yeah!!”- Hunk shouted as he put his hand sideways by the side of his mouth, using his other hand to bring his fist in the air. –“Go Lance!!!”

Pidge was jumping a little, repeatedly, as she had her hands gripping the half wall. It was then that she let out a loud ‘ _ha-ha!_ ’, sounding enthusiastic as well as bewildered, due to the unexpected way the hit landed. As she proceeded to lean away from the wall, she spoke: -“I can’t believe that sucker is still alive…”

-“Not just alive!”- Hunk shouted as his eyes briefly fell upon his little friend. –“He’s _winning_!”

-“For now.”

The sudden serious tone of voice, as well at its graver pitch, made both friends freeze in time as they slowly lowered their arms, and looked over at the Hybrid. They saw Keith looking over the arena with a furrow of his eyebrows, something that almost seemed as a focused look to them, or perhaps, it was simply something coming from his own dismay.

Because of it, Pidge tilted her head slightly as she raised an eyebrow. –“Way to kill the good mood…”

Noticing the dry tone coming from the Child of Athena, Keith glanced over at them from the side, still wearing the same serious look. –“I’m just saying,”- He crossed his arms tighter around his chest as he looked back at the arena. –“right now, he’s being too over-confident. In a fight, that can be deadly.”

 

A loud crack sounded through the confines of the arena, accompanied by a loud grunt, sounding as furious as a growl. Vali had gotten his foot out of the shattering ice, and once he was free, there was nothing stopping him. It was as if his sight went straight into tunnel vision, because he did not recover, he only rushed forward, as fast as he could.

Just as soon as the ice had cracked, Lance, who had his arms raised as he walked around and raveled on the crowd’s cheering, felt his stomach drop. A little freezing sting, the sensation of danger and the fear that came with it. That was what he felt as he completely lost his grin, blending into an expression of distress.

His first reaction was to turn around with a yelp to the raging god, and with his bow by his stomach, he drew and fired some shots. The result, however, was pitiful, as, since he was in distress and not focused at all, his aim became sloppy. From many frantic arrows fired, only two landed, both times on the Norse god’s chest, but those did not seem to have stopped him, now.

Vali looked as he was a force of nature, or pure rage itself. Pain did not seem as it was weighting him down any longer.

It was when the Norse god was in close proximities, that Lance’s eyes went wide with panic, and only by a lucky inch he managed to dodge the incoming axe, by diving to his left.

In a brief second, Lance found himself kneeling with one leg, as he balanced himself by having his left hand supporting him on the ground, by his side. As he tightened the grip on his bow with the other hand, he gritted his teeth as his loud thoughts took over his mind for two heartbeats.

He had been completely irrational. Instead of taking the opportunity of taking down his opponent and win the fighting exercise, he, instead, raveled in the crowd’s cheering. He dived deep into the praise, into the recognition, without even having his task completed.

It had been a terrible mistake. All because of his wishes of greatness and desire for attention.

With that last thought in mind, Lance shut his eyes closed as his eyebrows twitched, his lips curling as they were tasting the sour feeling of regret. But in a flash of a second, his eyes slid open, as he heard and felt the Viking rushing towards him. Quickly he drew an arrow and fired it.

It landed right on the left side of the god’s torso, but it did not stop him, either. No matter, because it did for Lance what he wanted it to: it bought him some time to get back up and fall back.

However, seeing the Norse god still persisting to getting close to him, and seeing the space between them lessen, Lance braced himself for the inevitable. He quickly lifted his bow horizontally in the exact moment Vali raised his battle axe, and in a second, he felt the tremendous impact both weapons made upon contact.

He had closed his eyes slightly, just for half a second, feeling bits of frost falling from his bow right down his face. When he peeked, he saw the neck of the axe right against the middle of his bow, and saw the sharp end of the weapon dangerously close to a bit of his hair, on top of his head.

Well, that was a relief. Truth be told, Lance wasn’t too sure what would happen if his bow had absorbed the sharp impact of the axe’s end.

But soon enough, Lance found the feeling of relief to be fleeting, as he began to feel the strength of the Norse god pressing down on his weapon. Finding his own grunting being muffled by Vali’s own growls, Lance decided, this was too much to take. It would only be dumb to keep trying to win a battle he knew he couldn’t.

So, suddenly, he ducked down as he tilted his bow to the right. A maneuver that made Vali, who was putting too much strength into the weapon, stumble past Lance, who turned to him.

It was fairly quick for Vali to find his footing, and once he did and turned around to face his opponent, he quickly swung his axe at Lance, who dodged the hit by jumping backwards.

As the Norse god kept persisting, Lance desperately tried to notch an arrow into his bow’s string, but before it appeared, Vali rammed into him. And as the Norse god’s shoulder made contact with Lance’s stomach, he was thankful he had his breastplate on, but he still felt all his air rush out of his mouth, as an ‘oof’ escaped him.

In a moment, he was airborne as his feet left the ground of the arena. A rush of adrenaline and desperate survival instincts kicking in made him hear his blood cursing through his veins. That moment of uncertainty vanished, however, when he felt the back of his breastplate finally hit the ground, and then his head.

The crowd let out surprised utters of terror.

Once he landed, his bow fell from his hand and a little cloud of sand and dirt raised around him, as he could feel the warm sand stinging underneath his exposed skin.

His mind was a mess, due to the impact of his head. All he could hear was the continuous sound of his own blood rushing, and now, a loud, strident ringing taking over his hearing.

It was when that sound lessened, that Lance felt himself coming back. He pressed down his closed eyelids a little more as he winced and groaned. His blinking eyes unraveled the bright baby blue sky, absent of clouds. And the fleeting ringing on his ears gave away the loud shouts in a foreign language from the Norse god, as well as the timid cheering of the crowd.

Lifting his head, Lance saw Vali doing what he had done before. The Norse god had both his arms raised, and was banging his axe in the air as he sought for more cheering from the crowd. And right when his gaze locked on Lance’s, he lowered his axe, and even ignored some words that were being shouted at him by raising his other hand towards them.

Within a heartbeat of observing each other’s gazes from afar, Vali seemed to have made up his mind, as he started to walk forward, which turned into a run as he roared a war cry.

Lance felt his breathing itch at that moment, especially because part of himself thought the fight was over. It usually was over when things were getting too dangerous. But he wasn’t even entirely himself to fully comprehend what was going on around him.

But those survival instincts that had kicked in were screaming at him to get to the bow.

He hastily looked to his right side, and found his weapon close. With a little grunt, he struggled to get his hands on it, but when the tip of his finger reached it, he managed to, repeatedly, bring it close enough so he could grab it.

The next, happened way too fast.

Lance had no time to think, he simply instinctively brought his bow up, holding it with both hands. And just when his bow was right above his eye level, he watched as Vali’s axe appeared in a rapid speed. It came down on him, right in the middle of the bow, between Lance’s eyes.

And when it landed, it caused a loud sound, and an explosion resulting in a white, pristine cloud of frost.

The crowd, after letting out panicked utters, went quiet. Everything did.

Lance’s desperation rose as his sight was taken over by the fog, an anxiety fearing over how he could not see anything that was going on around him, nor the axe.

Soon enough, Lance found that his expectation of the frost cloud dispersing soon did not really happen. In fact, the frost all around him seemed to, somehow, getting brighter by the second. It was then that a bright glow started to come from his hands, right where he was holding his bow.

Fright flared on his panicked blue eyes before he had to shut them close, as the glowing was growing too bright to handle. Though his mind still raced, and his anxieties feared the worst.

This was it. The last light of his weapon giving out, for sure. Vali’s axe was extremely mighty, as he and many members of the academy knew. It would be foolish to hope that a brittle ice bow, no matter how magical it could be, would be able to stand a tremendous slice from the axe.

And so, with closed eyes and gritted teeth, Lance had to experience his bow’s last stand. The final moments of this weapon that had accompanied him in combat training since he was a teen and first walked into this arena. The weapon he expected to wield against Galra.

Now, those hopes would all vanish, and the memories would, too, in time.

Suddenly, a rush of wind started to come out of his bow from all angles, and little seconds later, Lance could feel something stinging and taking over his hands.

His own frost, the material which the bow had been carefully made of by Hephaestus.

Shivering, Lance tried to focus on holding his weapon, which was proving to be difficult, as his frost kept on invading his arms, and the cold started to take his tact from his hands. The wind itself kept pouring out of his weapon, feeling colder than any breeze he had ever experienced. It felt as though a blizzard was being let out as his weapon was giving out.

And such kept going, and going, growing larger in intensity.

Until it all stopped.

Lance heard a little last whistle of the cold breeze passing by his side, feeling it gently rocking some of his hair. And then, when it stopped, there was nothingness. No more movement he could feel, no more wind he could hear.

And he felt on his eyelids that the bright glowing had stopped, too.

All that was left, had been the same cold of his frost. But that, started to fade away as well. The numbness he was feeling on his fingers because of it eased, and then, he started to feel tact again.

Like Lance had feared, there was not, any longer, the familiar comforting feeling of his bow in his hands. It had felt alike the gentle touch of the first snowflakes that fell in the start of the winter. It felt as feeble as a stick and yet as strong as rock. As agile as water, and as firm as ice.

And now, that was no more.

Although… what Lance expected to feel after his weapon had been gone, was nothing but his own, frosty fingers.

That was not the case.

He felt something. Something more than his own frost, that still nestled between his fingers. He felt something tougher in his hands, something alike… pure ice. Smooth and strong, firm. Though, also colder. In fact, it was freezing cold.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Lance decided it was time to face reality. He needed to see the outcome of such blow. He needed to see what it was that he was holding. It couldn’t possibly be his bow, it did not feel like it had its… its essence.

So, releasing a long icy breath from his mouth, Lance slowly blinked. The light of the sun had been blocked from him, by a dark shadow belonging to someone great. He saw what seemed to be his still lifted arms, and saw the uneven lines where the brown of his skin was enveloped by pristine frost.

Before him, he saw the shade of his opponent, but not his gaze. The Norse god’s eyes were hidden behind a pure white line held between Lance’s hands, just alike he had been holding his bow.

Such sight had captured Lance’s curiosity, so much that he blinked more to try to get his vision to finally clear out. And when it did, when the image before his eyes was no longer blurry, the sight Lance was met with made him itch his breathing.

Right where his bow once was, now rested a large blade. It looked as though it was made of the purest, strongest ice in existence. It was incredibly smooth, sharp-looking and large. Considering its length, it seemed as it was a long sword.

Amazed before the sight, Lance allowed his gaze to travel from the tip of the blade, which reflected a little sunray into his eyes, to the handle. The latter was made of a material alike silver, though it looked purer. And at the very end, rested a blue gem, alike a sapphire from the Earth Realm.

Lance had been so astonished, and in awe, that he did not even realize the axe still held strongly against his new weapon. He had not noticed when the crowd, before such sighting, had gasped in bewilderment.

 

Back on the first row of the arena seats, the other three gods stood, observing the scene with looks just as astonished as Lance’s.

Seeing the blade, Keith’s eyes grew subtly wide, as his lips fell slightly apart, unconsciously. Of all the outcomes for this fight, he would never in his lifetime foresee such ending. He had never expected to watch the bow disappear into a cloud of frost and morphing into a blade.

Hephaestus had surely crafted this weapon with care and great detail. Though the look on the face of Poseidon’s offspring made it seem, to Keith, that this weapon’s new form had been a total surprise for Lance, too.

Which was strange, but something Keith also could relate to.

In the meantime, Hunk had both his hands on top of the half wall, and was completely leaning himself forward. The look on his face was one of raw terror, one matching with his gaping lips. His brow eyes seemed of a deeper color, as the wood of a tree when it rained.

It was clear that his inside, his soul, had been petrified for his friend, and now, now he did not know how to react. He did not know how to start up again.

The only thing moving his body was by his right arm. Pidge was the one holding it with both her arms, hugging it as a sort of pillow. And she was, currently, shaking it, trying to get Hunk to react, while she, too, was trying to react herself. Her wide eyes, just alike Hunk’s, were still fallen upon her other friend, and in the wobbly amber of them, the look of concern was unmistakable.

 

As Lance’s mind started to come back to reality, he could hear the crowd’s murmuring amongst the silence in the air. He could hear his own breathing, loud and clear, coming out shaky and uneven. An obvious contrast against the Viking’s rough and strong huffs of breaths coming out of his mouth.

And then, louder than anything had been for a while, a strident whistle sounded off in the air.

_-“That’s it! Fight’s over! Stand back, students!”_

The voice of his teacher was the most abrupt factor that forced Lance’s mind to sober.

Blinking, it took a second for the meaning of said words to make sense in his own mind, but when they did, Lance understood that it was all over. The fight, that is.

Until when his eyes, for no good reason rather than accidentally, fell upon Vali’s own gaze. One that was staring right down at him, with such hatred it seemed as though he was about to not listen to their teacher’s words.

And for some seconds, it seemed as though, that was what was going to happen. Vali’s gaze stayed on Lance’s for long seconds, as his hands trembled, just alike Lance’s, who, now, was starting to give in to the Norse god’s strength.

But then, the Viking’s breathing itched with infuriation, and as his pupils grew thin, and fury drowned his expression, Vali drew back with an annoyed grunt.

He stood, then, sideways, refusing to face the child of Poseidon. With his head lowered, as well as his axe’s head, which was facing the ground, the Norse god took a long breath, and when he exhaled it, he started to walk away.

Lance had observed him, and at that precise moment, relief invaded his system to see his potential threat leave. Letting out a little breath, Lance relaxed all the muscles on his body, let his head fall back on the ground, and allowed himself to fully recover.

 

 

…

 

 

When the teacher had rushed into the arena, the first thing he did was to kneel by the fallen god, and started to try to talk to him. It had been a sight that was intently observed by Hunk, who stood behind the half wall of the amphitheater with large, preoccupied eyes.

None of the other gods with him dared to speak, either. It might have been a good thing. Hunk was sure he’d lose it if any word was spoken, especially if anyone would ask him if he was alright. He couldn’t help it, he was emotional. Anyone who had witnessed their best friend being in such danger would probably feel things, too.

As Lance’s head nodded and he started to slowly get up with the help of their teacher, was when Hunk huffed out a relieved breath, and allowed his muscles to relax. He noticed the way he lowered his head entirely, and slumped his shoulders, allowing himself to support his weight on his hands, which were still gripping the wall.

He heard, at that moment, Pidge mutter something alike _‘thanks gods’_ , and noticed the now annoyed tone in her voice. It was alike Pidge, if he was being fairly honest. She cared, and it showed, but she also would try to mask it. He couldn’t blame her, not everybody was as open with their emotions as he was.

And that was okay. Not everybody can be the same.

He actually wondered how the Underworld god would show worry. Hunk subtly glanced at Keith with that thought in mind, and saw the god with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on the arena, where his friend was.

The neutral look on the god’s face made Hunk furrow his eyebrows. He observed Keith with a little more attention, and still came out empty. Or, almost. There was something in his eyes, the wobbly way they shined as they were so intently fixed on Hunk’s friend, that, for a second, made Hunk wonder if that was some sort of worry.

But, he couldn’t tell too much, as the way Keith’s eyebrows were furrowed could also look as though he was furious. To be fair, it was hard to read new people, especially those with questionable intentions.

So, with a tiny shrug, Hunk allowed himself to look back forward, and was pleasantly surprised that he saw his best friend already standing. Lance nodded in response to some words the teacher had been telling him, and then turned around right to them.

Lance’s face filled with a big smile when his eyes landed on his friends, and as he walked back to them, Hunk noticed his limping. But his overwhelming joy to see his friend alright took over his pessimistic reasoning.

-“ _Lance_!”

Before his friend could answer, Hunk impulsively swung a leg over the wall, and then the other. He was so caught up in his concern that he did not even notice how effortlessly he had done such thing. That because, at the same time he tried to cross the wall, Pidge went to his left and also tried to climb the wall.

She had tried to swung her foot over the wall, but only managed to put the side of it on the wall the second try. She proceeded to lay on her stomach on the wall, and as that tedious process was over, she released a little ‘phew’.

However, when it was time for her to slide to the side of the arena, she slid too much and ended up slipping to the ground.

Hunk, who already had his feet in the arena, glanced at Pidge when she fell, and saw as she quickly jumped up, saying ‘I’m okay!’, as she gave him a thumbs up and then proceeded to dust off her large armor.

In the meantime, Keith did not jump side, but he did lean himself forward on the half wall, having both his hands on it.

Right when Lance was at arms-length with his best friend, Hunk quickly placed his steady hand against Lance’s right shoulder. –“Buddy, you’re okay?!?”

-“He has a sword…”- Said Pidge, quietly as her eyes went wide. She hadn’t even had the time to properly process what had just happened, so it was all ganging up on her.

Meanwhile, Hunk gripped both Lance’s shoulders with each of his hands as he gently shook his friend. –“ _You almost died!!!”_

In the background of the two, Pidge’s expression shifted to one of excitement. –“It was _so_ awesome!!!”- She curled up her fists as she looked up at a grinning Lance.

Hunk, however, he let go of Lance and extended his arms wide to the sides as he faced his other friend with a rather exasperated expression. –“ _Pidge_?!?”

With all the attention turned to her, Pidge simply shrugged. –“What? He did so well! And he has a freaking _ice_ sword!!”- She exclaimed as she widely gestured towards Lance’s hands, where his ice sword still rested.

Quickly, Pidge’s eyes fell on the blade, observing it for a little second, before her now inquisitive eyes lifted to meet Lance’s. –“… How does it work??”

Faced with the question, Lance’s eyebrows went lightly up, before his gaze fell on the blade in his hands. It was then, that he lightly frowned. –“I… Uhh… dunno? I just got it…”

However, as a thought flared through his mind, he slowly looked up as he, again, raised both his eyebrows and slowly, his expression started to blend into a grin. One that seemed to be getting a little too smug.

-“… It _was_ pretty cool though, right?”- Lance mused as he swiftly swung his sword to place it over his right shoulder. –“I mean, I must have looked so _bada_ -“

Before he could finish that word, he was interrupted by none other than Keith whose voice sounded quite dry, with a non-enthusiastic tone. –“Yep… He’s okay.”

As Lance rapidly turned to glare at the Underworld god, who raised an unimpressed brow at him, Hunk was still frozen. He shook his head then, and turned to them. –“Okay, but… am I _the only one_ who noticed that Lance _almost died_?!?”

Pidge shot between both he and Lance, and right then, she placed a hand on Lance’s right shoulder, and the other on Hunk’s left shoulder. –“He didn’t though! Besides,”- She glanced at Lance and patted his shoulder. –“you were lucky Vali didn’t use his ‘ _axe throw of doom’_ signature move.”

Only the mention of such thing made Lance grimace. –“You’re right about that…”

-“So…”

That voice, deep, rough and slightly growly, didn’t match any of those in the small circle. But all of them, especially the Overworld kids, knew exactly to who it belonged to. A voice that sent shivers run down Lance’s spine, as it evoked the still fresh memories of the Viking’s rageful face twist in fury as he resentfully let go of the fight when he was ordered to.

No wonder. They’ve had fights before, as it was obvious, but never had one ended with such result. Never had Lance not have to swallow his own words.

Come to think of it, perhaps angering one of the most powerful students in the academy when they were younger wasn’t really the wisest decision Lance has ever made.

The Norse god appeared from behind Lance’s back, but more to the left of him, with a visible distance between them. Once he reached the group, the large god, who was even slightly taller than Hunk himself, faced the group as he crossed his arms.

He looked around them, noticing the way everybody stiffed into defensive mindsets, noticeable in their body language. Though Vali, he didn’t care.

-“There surely were some… unexpected turns of events.”

It was weird, Lance found, the way that Vali’s words actually sounded as a true statement, not having any tint of sarcasm in them. Therefore, he grinned, as he took in the Norse god. –“Hah, not expecting that, were ya? I mean you were lucky our teacher didn’t let us go any further or else I’d totally kick your-“

Before he could finish, Vali interrupted with a higher voice. –“Do keep dreaming, child of Poseidon.”- He uncrossed his arms. –“The gods’ blessings were simply on your side today, but luck usually runs out, and that is when skill comes into play.”- As he spoke, Vali slightly lowered his chin to level Lance’s gaze with his own. –“Alas, I have not come for you.”

That was the last statement that made Lance, and his friends, blink in confusion. –“Wh-“

It was then that without even regarding the others, Vali glanced forward, to beyond the half-wall, and his live green eyes fell upon the Underworld god, who instinctively took a step back, noticing the new attention he had gained.

Vali’s voice, as he spoke his announcement, was grave and low, alike his gaze. –“I am here, for the demon.”

The nickname, it was the word that awakened Keith to retake a step forward, and since his hands were no longer on the wall, he crossed his arms defensively instead, and stood as tall as he could. As imposing.

He felt the same defensive glare he wore in public when he was in the Underworld return to his face, and even had to school his darkness power to ease, as a little smoky shadow was already seeping through his elbow, into the atmosphere.

In the meantime, the other three gods watched the extremely tense glare-exchange-contest-whatever it was with gaping mouths. Their faces comically mirrored each other’s, even the wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

Hunk actually held back from commenting ‘ _oh no, you didn’t’_ towards Vali’s passive aggressive and completely rude statement, yet again, he calculated that if he did, he’d have the Viking’s rageful attention, and he wasn’t about that.

Unsurprisingly, Vali was the one to speak first, as his tone continued the same. –“I am not sure if you were aware, _demon_ , but I have been cautiously observing you.”

That was right, Keith thought. Back when their teacher was working with Keith, he felt many stares on his back, but when he turned, Vali’s ones were the most recurring. Though, at the time, he did not know the stares belonged to the god who his classmates warned him about. However, he should have guessed.

Keith even wondered if Vali had observed him even before the arena class.

-“For what I have seen,”- The Viking continued as he uncrossed his arms, and stood taller, chin lifted. –“you do actually possess some abilities in the art of one-on-one battle… unlike most of my previous opponents…”

-“Aww come on!”- Lance protested as he wildly gestured towards himself with both hands. –“I’m _right here_!!”

Hunk pursed his lips as he nodded, his gaze fallen to the side, and Pidge lightly patted Lance’s shoulder.

Alike Vali, Keith had temporarily glanced at Lance with a lifted brow, but within a second, his gaze fell back upon the Viking, and the glare was back. –“What’s it to you?”

-“I was simply stating the obvious.”- The Viking shrugged. –“After all, I would expect no less from someone who was born to be a killer.”

Keith felt his eyebrows slowly raise, glare transforming into a surprised expression. However, he schooled the glare back on his face immediately, the glint in his eyes oozing off a defensive energy.

-“I’m a diplomat-“

The Norse god did not even care for Keith’s interjection. -“A killer, as I was raised to be.”- As he spoke, Vali noticed the now confused furrow on the Underworld god’s eyebrows. –“The only differences between you and I is that I fight for the Overworld, and you, for the Underworld. You have no right of being here, in the domain of light, and as such… I must see you out _myself_.”

As his glare turned sharper, it was noticeable to the other gods how Keith’s dark eyes were turning darker. A fiery indigo had gone almost completely black, just alike when he had felt threatened by Hunk and Lance’s accusations.

And his tone of voice, it mimicked his grave look perfectly. –“Well, too bad for you, because I’m here to stay.”

-“That is, indeed, how things were agreed upon. But agreements may as well be broken when there is no logic behind them.”- Vali lowered his chin to meet the demon’s gaze, with no hesitation, showing how his was just as threatening. –“The matter is simple. Darkness does not belong in realms of light, so I must see you out.”

The more Keith spoke, the more irritably his words came out of his mouth. –“Yeah? You’re gonna _make me_?”

-“ _Okay_ …!”- Hunk interjected, slowly and apprehensively dragging out the word. –“Hehe, so… who here likes melons?! Cuz I sure love them! In fact, why won’t we all go for a nice piece of melon and just talk this out instead, yeah…?”

Sadly, Hunk’s efforts seemed to have been ignored by the two gods, as neither even seemed to have acknowledged his words. In fact, it seemed as though they weren’t acknowledging anything but their tense argument.

-“You have made me do this…”- Vali’s grave voice came out low, under his breath, as he hadn’t even noticed he was lightly hunched over. When he did, he straightened up, and when his voice came out, it was loud, again, as an honorable announcement. –“Tonight, when the moon rises high as the first star appears, we shall duel. Right in this very arena.”

-“What do I have to gain with that?”

The Viking’s answer was instant. -“Glory, as in any fight. As well as your righteous place to stay in this realm.”

There was a little laugh, sounding like a scoff, to Vali’s right, and when he turned his head to it, he saw it belonged to the little god in the middle of Lance and Hunk.

-“Pretty sure it’s _Allura_ who gets to decide that…”- Pidge’s voice, as her pointed look when she stared up at the Viking, was unimpressed, defiant, even, in its undertones.

-“So does Odin.”- The Norse god answered without hesitation, as he looked down to the child of Athena. It was then, that he glanced back towards Keith. –“Plus, he surely was unpleased when he found out about the eventual presence of a _demon_ in this realm.”

Vali continued, as he rose his voice to a loud growl. –“A demon who will end up _KILLING US ALL_!”

The fury in Keith’s eyes amplified, and in response, he rose his voice to match the same tone as his challenger. –“ _I’M NOT HERE FOR THAT_!!”

Regarding the heated answer he received back, Vali gritted his teeth. He closed his eyes as he inhaled unevenly through his teeth, his breath shaky from his sheer anger. Once he exhaled, however, he was more composed.

So, he looked back towards the Underworld god, and his low, rough voice came out of his mouth before he was even in control. –“I care for _no words_ coming from such _vile creature_ , even less trust them.”

Reacting to the absolutely disrespectful comment, Keith huffed. –“You know _WHAT_ -“

In the background, Hunk sighed tiredly, with his eyes semi-narrowed. –“ _And there it is…”-_ He mumbled under his breath, earning equally tired hums from his other two friends.

-“ _FINE_!”- Keith uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, noting that everything about his body language – from his tense, hunched shoulders and his low warning gaze – was defensive. –“If you wanna fight me so bad, then sure, let’s do it tonight,”- He pointed to the ground beneath his feet. –“right here.”

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, the Norse god did not seem as irritated anymore. He looked pleased. He was, after all, getting exactly what he wanted. –“Good. I am looking forward to our face-off, demon.”

Once he had honorably made his last statement, Vali did not hesitate to turn around, and proceeded to leave.

Letting out a long, calming breath from his nose, Keith lowered his head as he closed his eyes, trying to regain control of his power. His power was emotion-driven, after all, and any slight emotion, especially a negative one, could activate it. The last thing he wanted was to appear as though he wasn’t in control.

And when his eyes slid back open, still fallen upon the shrinking back of his challenger, he frowned. -“ _May the Under-Lord have no mercy on you when the time comes_ …”

The whisper was hardly heard by the other three, who were still watching Vali going off into the distance. Which was good, as Keith’s pupils were now, again, completely black, and his dark, slimy smoke was coming off his right arm yet again.

Such words, said in such a low voice, were a curse when muttered out of a demon’s mouth. The darkness oozing off of his corpse-looking skin was merely a side-effect from the cursed words.

 

His trance was only interrupted by Pidge’s voice. –“… Well, that just happened…”

-“You can’t possibly be thinking you’re gonna do this duel right?!”

Blinking back into reality, as the voiceless whispers from his dark power cleared from his head, Keith was met with the attention of the other gods. And the very own question that had brought him fully back, was inquired by none other than Lance.

In the meantime, not even realizing Keith was still trying to sobering from his power, Lance continued in a hurried pace. –“I mean the guy almost broke my skull in half!”

To his side, with crossed arms and pursed lips, Hunk slowly looked towards his friend. –“You address that fact now…”- To which Lance responded with a shrug.

-“It’s already done,”- Keith suddenly announced. –“I have to keep my word. Besides he’s a jerk, right? He’ll deserve it.”

Letting out an annoyed huff, Lance glared at him. –“He’ll _crush you_!!”

Yet again, Keith felt his emotions burning, as his now fiery indigo eyes fell upon Lance. –“Why would _you_ suddenly care anyway?!”

Faced with the inquiring half question, half accusation, Lance felt as though he was at a loss for words. His eyebrows raised as he gaped with bewilderment, and his voice scrambled to utter out something.

-“Wha- I-“

Fortunately for him, or perhaps not, Pidge spoke over him, choosing to not acknowledge the tension between the two gods. –“Honestly, as much as I’d like to see Vali get what he deserves, I’m with Lance on this one.”- As she spoke, she watched Keith. –“I mean, I don’t know how you fight, but Vali is ruthless.”

-“He’s literally killed three kids on purpose and came really close to kill a whole lot more!”- Hunk cared to supply.

There was a pause, and as Keith took in their warnings, he lowered his gaze to the ground beneath his feet. His gaze was no longer rageful, but not the least emotional. There was a sadness in his eyes, or… guiltiness, that wasn’t hard to read for the others, even Lance.

-“… There… are Galra soldiers with hundreds of kills of our own.”

His confession, uttered in such a low murmur, was still well heard by his classmates. And it was received by silence.

Though, he knew what they might be thinking. He knew they were putting the pieces together, just like he thought they would.

He was an Underworld soldier. He, too, had done it.

-“… _What_ …”

Hearing Pidge’s faint, unbelievable voice, Keith took in a deep breath and steeled them with a look of his own he hoped was, the very least, stoic.

-“It’s nothing new to me.”- He crossed his arms, feeling more protected by the metaphorical barrier, and glanced to the side. –“And it doesn’t matter if he has killed one or one hundred. I’ve given my word, and I can’t just back down now.”

When he finished his sentence, he looked back up to his classmates, and this time, there was an obvious taint of decidedness in the look of his eyes.

-“I’m doing this and _no one_ will stop me.”

 

 

…

 

 

The first star had appeared already on the darkened sky, marking the incoming beginning of the duel. Torches lit up the areas of the arena the bright full moon couldn’t, their flames dancing with each light blow of the night’s chilly breeze.

To their surprise, many students, even from other classes, cared to show up, as they scattered themselves in groups around the large, tall seats of the arena. No guards nor ‘adult’ gods showed up to supervise, meaning the rumor did not spread enough to the administration’s hears. Which was good, nobody really wanted to get in trouble for assisting an illegal duel.

However, perhaps the same could not be said about those who were going to fight.

-“Are you _really_ sure you wanna get out there?”

Keith was gazing off into the soil of the arena he had yet to set foot in for a real fight, until he realized the question was aimed towards him. When he glanced back to the group, he found in the middle of both his friends, Lance gazing at him with a pointed look, waiting for an answer. Hunk, to Lance’s right, and Pidge, to his left, were also observing him.

Regarding the question, and those looks, Keith simply sighed, exhaling deeply from his nose, as he briefly lowered his head. –“We… went over this...”

-“Uhh, yeah, we did,”- Hunk said as he crossed his arms, having a little of a petty tilt on his eyebrows. –“but like, are you really, _really_ sure you wanna get into this fight? Vali’s duels are usually deadly or almost deadly, you can’t possibly think you’ll get out of this without a scratch! Besides, maybe like, you should be laying low? Aren’t you under control by the administration or anything?”

It was true that Hunk had completely valid concerns. The most reasonable part of Keith’s mind was telling him so, knocking him on his own head with a metaphorical mace. However, his word had been given, his mind was already set on it, and when Keith’s mind had set on something, it usually meant it was, to him, set in stone. And that stone was hardly broken.

Which was why, as he leveled Hunk with a serious look, he closed his eyes as he spoke with a low, rough voice: -“I _don’t_ have time for this…”

The three gods before him shared looks, most of them of concern, before Pidge sighed and took the cue.

-“Alright, if you’re actually gonna do this, you’ve gotta know about some stuff.”- She noticed Keith’s attention falling upon her. –“Vali’s killer move is throwing his axe, and by all means, do _not_ let that thing get near you. It literally crashes through armor like a knife through butter. And you’re not even wearing any…”

-“You should probably just dodge it.”- Lance added.

Pidge nodded at him before she continued. –“Also keep in mind that it’s a duel, it’s got no supervision, so he’s gonna fight dirty. You won’t see the Vali you saw against Lance earlier, he _won’t_ stop.”

It wasn’t a coincidence Keith had taken a like to Pidge’s friendship. It was clear that she thought alike him. While the others were trying to convince him to get off board, Pidge hadn’t pushed too much about it. She probably knew Keith wouldn’t back down, and just pressing the issue would only worsen his mood.

Perhaps that wasn’t the wisest thing to support, his decision, because he was sure as hell this was completely irresponsible. But he was a young adult, easily riled up, fighting a god – or monster, to be honest – who hated Keith’s gut just because he existed.

And while it was understandable that Vali hated the Underworld and the Galra, as they were, after all, a nation invading many others with war, some of Vali’s hatred wasn’t excusable at all. As Pidge had let Keith know, the Viking was hateful towards many things, and many sorts of beings just because they were who they were.

Without even knowing, he hated Keith not just because he was from the Underworld. And that… That revolting feeling might had been the one that fueled Keith’s willingness to partake on this crazy duel.

So, he was glad he was at least supported by a friend. It was, however, a little surprising to him Lance had finally given up and seemed to be on board, too. His last comment gave that away.

He was helping.

Keith didn’t really know why, and honestly, he wasn’t going to ask, nor dwell on it for too long.

He had a duel to win.

It was then that Hunk found not only Keith, but both his friends, too, – those traitors – looking at him expectantly. As if they were asking for his consent.

_Sure, the most reasonable of the four had to give in_ , Hunk grumpily thought.

He crossed his arms tight on his chest, squeezing his now casual tunic onto himself. The look on his face was as one of a whining child, though this one had all the reasons in the world to complain. His friends were insane and so was the Galra.

But as he looked between them, he knew he had to give them an answer, so he let out a long exhale from his mouth before speaking. –“… I still don’t approve of this.”- He made sure to lower his voice, speaking in a hushed tone. –“ _I have never even witnessed a duel, but this is the_ shadiest _environment I’ve ever been in. So, maybe we should just, go out for the night…”_

-“That’s a lost battle you’re fighting, and you know it, buddy.”

He knew Lance was right. This was a lost battle. He glanced at Keith then, with a tired expression all over his face. –“You’re not giving up, are you?”

The Underworld god’s answer was short and simple. –“Nope.”

That only made Hunk let out another tired sigh as he deflated on himself. –“Sure, okay, that’s totally cool.”- His petty tone increased as he spoke. –“ _But when things turn sour_ -“

-“Sure buddy, we’ll hear it from you.”- Lance said, sounding actually truthful and serious, as he patted his best friend’s shoulder. –“We know.”

Hunk simply let out a protesting groan.

Chuckling, as she watched her friend’s exchange, Pidge shook her head before her eyes fell upon Keith, seeing that he had a tiny ghost of a smile on his lips, – which had only been noticeable because of the bright, amused glint in his eyes – before he, too, turned to her.

So, Pidge took the chance to speak before he could. -“Anyway, good luck out there, dude.”- She extended her fist forward, and was pleasantly surprised that Keith understood her intention and fist bumped her. –“Knock em’ dead.”

As he took his hand back to his side, Keith huffed a little breath. –“Thanks.”

He looked up then, at the other two gods who were farther from him, noticing they were, too, observing him. To them, he simply nodded once, wearing a serious expression on his face. A silent farewell, of mutual understanding. It was, after all, what he was used to do in the Underworld, as he’d bid his casual goodbye to Thace.

Keith knew this was different, but he didn’t think he had it in him to say anything else. So, he just turned his back on them, hesitated a little, and with a deep breath, he started to make his way down towards the center of the arena.

 

In the meantime, Hunk crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes warily. –“Why do I have a feeling this is not gonna end up well?”

Hunk’s faint murmur made Lance glance at him from the corner of his eyes, just briefly, before he allowed his gaze to fall back down in the arena.

-“It’s not just you, man…”- He whispered back, as everybody around them cheered when both fighters entered the arena.

 

Vali was on the other side of the arena, as he had jumped in the same time Keith did. The Viking had paid no mind to the Underworld god, nor everyone around him, as he raised his right arm to the sky and looked up.

On his almost curled hand, a lime green shine started to flare through, and before they knew it, the light was replaced with Vali’s large battle axe. It hadn’t been too easy to notice in the light of the day, but now, at night, it was easy to notice the swirling details drawn on the iron of both heads. Especially because, when light reflected on it, those drawings looked as they glowed a grim lime tone.

The Norse god brought down the axe to examine it, passing his finger through both sharp ends of each side of it, making sure it was sharpened well.

Seeming pleased, he abruptly brought the axe in the air as he roared a brief battle shout, and then proceeded to repeat the same two more times. In the end of the third time, he shouted to the skies in a powerful voice, words that Keith couldn’t understand.

In the meantime, Keith prepared himself, too.

Releasing a deep breath, as he muttered to himself ‘ _let’s do this_ ’, Keith lifted his right hand upwards, having his open palm facing the sky. He just needed to concentrate a little bit before his own power, his dark matter, started to leak out of his skin, first on his palm, and then, gradually, his entire right arm.

Feeling his power bubbling inside him, begging to be used again, Keith looked down at his palm, not being able to mask away the frown that came to his face.

Sometimes, even though he has worked on his power for centuries, it felt like it still wasn’t his. It was as though it belonged to someone else, and Keith was simply borrowing it. Thus, he sometimes would feel like he couldn’t control it the way he wanted to. However, surely the worst times it happened were after each of the two times he dared to use his other side. His fire.

But those thoughts were pushed away from his own mind as he willed himself to continue. He’d need not only his fighting skills for this match, but his power, too. He had to trust himself and his ability.

He was in control.

He had to be.

It was with those encouraging words that he tilted his hand down, and extended his arm to his side. Around his arm, his darkness started to twist and twirl, especially around his half-curled hand.

Only some seconds after, when his slimy darkness started to disperse from his hand, a shine of a polished obsidian-like smooth blade reflected the light of the torches around him.

Feeling the now comfortable weight of his short sword in his hand, Keith took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tuned out the loud cheering of their audience, as well as the Viking’s own shouting. He only allowed his mind to focus on his thoughts.

 

_Victory or Death._

His first thought wasn’t startling. It was the motto he had learned since he was a little child soldier. The saying of the Galra. It was all he knew, all that had been drilled in his mind. It was his second thought that did, however, shake him.

In a way… Vali was right. He _was_ brought up to be a killer, or to die failing to be one.

Perhaps that conclusion made Keith despise this situation more. He was out of place, but he knew that he wouldn’t be accepted, at least not easily. Thace had warned him about it before they parted ways.

He was aware that the Overworld was different, but he also didn’t understand how. Normality to him was all that happened in the Underworld, not here. There was never a thought in his mind that he was basically a killer, even though he truly was one. Because being a killer, it was normal in the Galra army. It was encouraged, even. It was treated as a glorious thing. A demonstration of power and might.

He wasn’t sure if that was the Overworld way.

It seemed to be sometimes, but others, he got mixed messages. In a moment, he was regarded to be a filthy Galra, a killer that other gods should be wary of – and he had to admit, perhaps they should be. But other times, so did other gods like Vali consider themselves to be killers, and seemed to be taking pride in those statements.

Keith found himself admitting, right then, that he would have liked to ask more advice to Coran. Or Shiro, who he had only seen in the morning to wish him good luck on his first day.

Well, turns out his first day here, hadn’t been much different from his first day in the Underworld… But that was another story.

Now, however, he was by himself, with no guidance. There was a brief moment he considered to tap out of this, that maybe this really was crazy.

Until a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of reality. He might be an antagonist in this Overworld environment, but so was Vali. He was an oppressing abuser, with too conservative ideals for a god.

Not even in the Underworld most gods thought alike him in those regards.

And suddenly, there it was again. This feeling of anger, in Keith’s heart, reminding him how Vali looked down on him, and if he knew everything Keith was, he would, undoubtedly, try his hardest to get rid of him. He would call him impure, with those humanized ideals of his.

So, Keith decided there was only one way to deal with this situation. The only way he knew how.

The Galra way.

When he opened his eyes, it was obvious he was determined, he was ready to fight. From his right side, especially shoulder and arm, dark matter seeped through his skin and into the atmosphere as lazy smoke, spreading into the night’s air.

He hadn’t noticed the way his jaw was clenched, teeth gritted, showing his little demon fangs. The indigo of his eyes was now replaced by a dark color, which would in a matter of seconds turn into pure black.

Vali stopped, then.

All this time he had been psyching himself up for battle, gathering energy to fight alike a true challenger. Now, however, his look turned serious as it fell upon the Underworld god. He stood, there, holding the axe with both hands, one higher than the other.

The flames dancing around them cast shadows on his face, hidden mostly by the shade of his helmet. Though the look of his eyes was undoubtedly grim, and as he spoke, so was his voice.

-“We shall see if you fight like a _true_ killer.”

His words were faint, but Keith heard them, which only made his own look deepen. His own skin seemed to have to lost the only little bits of color they usually had, as on his right side, his silhouette was almost completely taken by his dark matter, some of it trying to twist into his left side, over his skin. His eyes were, now, two black holes, and even a little of darkness oozed off of them.

In the background considering both fighters, by the edifications of the arena, two large torches were lit up, their flames growing higher and hungrier than the others.

Suddenly, the flames of the two seemed to almost explode, as they abruptly combusted into the night’s air.

That was the signal for the beginning of the duel.

 

Without missing a beat, both fighters rushed forward at the same time they heard the flame’s combustion. The expressions on their faces were more than pure focus, but of rage as well.

Being the fastest, Keith was rapidly in front of the Viking as he raised his sword in the air. Doing a little jump, where he held the sword with, now, both hands, he felt time slowing down as his feet were off the air.

Until he brought his sword down, with both arms, as he landed.

The attack was brutally blocked as Vali placed each his hands by each of his axe’s ends, and held it up towards the sword that came down on him.

Instantly upon impact, the Viking grunted and pushed himself and his arms forward, sending his opponent jumping back a couple of steps, who only wobbled a bit, before he regained his composure.

At that moment, Keith furrowed his eyebrows.

That push almost sent him flying across the arena if he weren’t agile and balanced. He noted by the way the Norse god had moved, that he hadn’t put much effort into it, either. If any at all.

It was then that realization flared through his mind, making his eyes grow subtly wide.

He knew what Vali’s power was. He hadn’t even thought about it, but now it was all in the table for him to see. The Norse god’s power was probably some sort of strength enhancement. It made sense why his hits looked so powerful. And it also answered why his weapon was so deadly and strong.

Hephaestus’ way of forging weapons was to fit each god’s abilities and quirks. That was common knowledge. If Vali’s power was in some way connected to strength, then it made sense his weapon was, too. So, if he was stronger than most gods, so was his weapon stronger than other weapons, even others that Hephaestus himself had forged.

Keith’s breath hitched when his eyes captured his opponent suddenly rushing towards him, startling him out of his thoughts.

Right, he was in middle of battle. He had to focus damnit! If he failed, he’d bring shame to all Galra.

Immediately, the Norse god was way too close to him, his axe already in position to strike. Vali swung it then, sideways, over his head, from left to right. Keith was only able to dodge it by half a second, as he ducked away, feeling the wind the axe’s slash had created rush by his head.

Right when Vali caught his axe mid-swing, noticing his strike hadn’t hit, he rapidly attacked again, this time by lifting his axe up alike a lumberjack and bringing it down on the other god. Keith, just like the last time, only managed to leap away by a small margin.

When Vali’s axe didn’t find the Underworld god’s head under it, it kept going until its head hit the ground.

Once in first contact with the soil, its impact made a shockwave flare through the ground like an earthquake. A mild one, but still impressive considering what had caused it. The sand of the arena around the axe was shaken out of its spots, making a large cloud of dust appear by the Viking’s axe.

With a grunt, Vali managed to pry his axe from the ground with an aggressive jerk. He turned himself to the left then, as he reclaimed his axe on his own hands, and found, there, his opponent looking at him.

The demon was observing him, having both his arms mildly fallen to his sides. He was making no move to advance on Vali, not even when he was occupied with his axe. And Vali saw why.

As much as the moody lighting of the arena cast shadows on each warrior’s faces, he still could see the expression on the demon’s black eyes. One of shock, and a tint of fear, or hesitation, which fueled the god’s confidence.

It was a look Vali would see a lot in his opponent’s eyes, when they would realize how obnoxiously overpowered he seemed to be. Although he couldn’t read the demon’s thoughts, he knew exactly what those were.

_‘How can I defeat him?’_

And Vali smirked as the answer was fairly obvious in his mind.

_‘You won’t.’_

When Vali growled as he lunged forward, with his axe clutched close to his chest, he found himself getting surprised by how the Underworld god ran towards him, too, almost at the same time.

They met in the middle of the arena, as Vali’s axe was pushed forward, and Keith’s blade raised against its neck, right under the axe’s head met its handle. However, neither of them retreated. Both stayed there, in the same position, applying strength into their own weapons.

A lost battle, Keith knew. His strength wasn’t abnormal, and not only that, he was positioned slightly lower than the Viking, feeling Vali’s strength pushing him down, willing him to give up.

He wasn’t going to, though.

Still pushing his own strength into his sword, Keith tilted the way he was holding it to the side, as so he did with his posture. In a second, he ran his sword through the axe’s neck, and managed to hurriedly duck to his left, out of the way of the axe.

That move had made an unsuspecting Vali, who was pushing much of his strength into the clash, stumble forward, suddenly out of balance.

A voice in the back of Keith’s mind sounded almost amused, congratulating himself by applying this move well, as well as reminding him how it had been oddly similar to something that Poseidon’s kid had used in his prior battle against Vali as well.

To be fair, a great fighter must be observant and apply new tricks to their arsenal no matter where the inspiration had come from.

Meanwhile, the Norse god had been quick to recover.

When he turned around, he was fast, for a big guy wielding a large weapon. He slashed his axe obliquely, in large movements. One to the side and other to the other. Keith had jumped back many steps each time to avoid it, as Vali kept on persisting.

Tired of dodging, as his patience ran short, Keith tried to land a hit, but didn’t manage. He lunged forward, but Vali quickly pushed his incoming sword away with a jerk of his axe, making Keith’s sword – and his whole arm with it– flying backwards.

The impulse had been too strong, and Keith noticed that upon this direct contact with the axe’s blade, the drawings covering it glowed lime green, just for a flash of a second, as it made some sort of energy pulsing sound.

His sword, the way it was now, he realized, wouldn’t be enough to resist the axe. He had to focus his mind more.

He had to use his power.

Glancing forward, he saw Vali marching towards him. The pointed upper edges of the axe were turned towards his chest, as if the Viking was to use his weapon as a ram.

This is it. He has to respond. He has to do more than just dance around the Viking as if he’s a bull he must dodge.

With a deep inhale Keith called upon his power, his darkness, that was lazily oozing off of his arm, eager to be used. In the back of his mind, there was a voice of reason reminding him how it was still unsure if using it was the best idea, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

As his exhale escaped his mouth, his dark matter stopped moving like smoke and shadows, and instead, rushed like desperate slime. It went from his torso, his shoulder, his arm, his hand, into his obsidian blade, making it, in a second, leak darkness as well.

Keith only had time to lift his sword to meet Vali’s axe. And then there was a shockwave, again.

Though this time, it was caused by both weapons.

The impact made an explosion of dark matter drift to all sides, and in the middle of it was that lime green shine from Vali’s weapon, before the shockwave went through both opponents.

It sent Keith almost flying, as he fell down on his back with a grunt many steps away from the Viking, who, on the other hand, managed to withstand the shockwave.

Such outcome urged various surprised noises from the crowd.

Wheezing a little as dust raised all over him, Keith’s mind screamed for him to get back up. The shockwave had been brutal if he was going to be honest, and he felt many bits of his body sore. But he was a fighter, and his mind was right. He had to get up and fight.

Though he couldn’t wash off the feeling that even with his power loaded on his sword, it wasn’t enough to defeat Vali’s.

Grunting, he placed his left palm on the ground, a steady support for himself. Then, he proceeded to lift his bottom body upward, leaned a little to his left, in the middle of a flip, until the only thing securing him on the ground was his steady hand.

But as his world went upside down, it quickly turned upward again, as his left foot hit the ground, succeeded by his right.

Back on his feet, he saw the Viking marching towards him again. This time, Keith didn’t let him gain momentum to ram into him, though. He ran forward.

In seconds, his blade fell right on the middle of both heads of Vali’s axe.

The same exact move had the same result of before. The impact was the same, even visually, and the shockwave still went through them. But this time, Keith managed to stay on his feet.

Not because of his own efforts.

There was something driving him, he could feel its power slowly pulsating through the right side of his body. Not enough that had him fighting for control, but enough that made him worry just a bit, as his heartrate rose.

But then, when his gaze fell right on the menacing eyes of the Viking before him, all his worries dispersed as pure fury took over his mind.

Vali’s eyes were the color of steel now, as if it was tainted with green dye. They immediately mirrored Keith’s energy, growing cold, greener.

At the same time Vali, who was holding his axe up, facing the Underworld god’s head, applied more force to it, enhancing the difficulty of this clash. Keith, in the meantime, gripped the handle of his sword harder as he tried to push it away from his face.

He still was trying to apply his dark matter into it, too, just like it seemed Vali was feeding his weapon’s strength, by the way its carvings glowed green with no trace of shyness now.

There was one thing Keith knew. He was struggling. He had no idea how he even was managing to stand against Vali’s clash of strength, guessing it was due to the aid of his darkness. Due to the aid of that… something that was doing things for him, even if just really subtly.

Although, that lent strength was, too, fading.

Shaking, feeling his muscles giving out, the demon looked up again. For a second his expression was of distress before he was able to mask it with a frantic frown, because he, right in that moment, saw the expression on Vali’s face.

There was something in the god’s eyes that was darker than any other time Keith had seen them. Something Keith had seen in many of his opponent’s eyes: screaming for bloodshed.

And in that moment, he knew. The way Vali was looking at him, was as if the Norse god had seen all of his well-hidden secrets. All of who he was, all of what his mind was hiding. And his response had been only one.

That this duel slowly became one where only one warrior was to be left standing.

In a second, after that realization, Keith felt it. All of Vali’s force came down on him, making him take a step back, while still not giving up of the clash. Gods, how it was unbearable. The pressure made it feel as though his bones were about to break like if he was a feeble human.

Vali had been holding back. Not anymore.

Because of that, Keith was forced to make a decision. One that he would regret, one that was even more reckless and unstable than using his darkness power in a wide manner. Something that was still even more foreign to him.

Slowly, as he allowed his right hand to adapt to the strength of the clash on its own – _just for a little, just so he could do this_ – Keith took his left hand away from his handle. He was grunting all the way, pretty sure he was now only hanging on due to that one thing helping him.

In the meantime, his left fist curled by his side. He drew it abruptly, before he threw it forward, with all the speed he could muster.

When his fist met the side of the stomach on the armor of the Norse god, there was yet another explosion.

Not of darkness, nor a shockwave this time.

The explosion of light almost blinded Vali, as the combustion that came with the punch sent him flying through the arena.

When his body hit the ground, he rolled, and rolled again, until he finally came to a stop, stomach to the ground. When his senses started to come back to him, Vali noticed he was wheezing, his breaths coming out uneven and quick.

The shrill ringing in his ears was throwing him off, making it difficult to adept his mind back to the lucid world. And there was a pain, he felt. It was almost as shrill as the sound in his ears, one that he felt on his right side, just above his waist.

Shaking his head in a desperate attempt to block out the ringing, he proceeded to lift his upper body, supporting it on his right forearm as he grunted.

When his side was off the ground, he saw it, on his waist, where the pain was coming from.

A large scorch mark.

He ran his trembling fingers by it, as black smoke tainted them as they passed. He felt it still burning hot but did not whine, nor jerked his hand away. Though his surely bruised flesh under his armor was still stinging in pain.

He tuned it all out by willing himself to get up. He was a warrior. Prideful son of Odin, nonetheless. A little punch couldn’t bring him down.

Bewildered, he slowly slid his head to look forward, away from his wound, and what he saw, made his green eyes widen, as they reflected flames frantically moving.

_A Hybrid._

_He was up against a Hybrid._

His opponent hadn’t moved an inch from where he was.

The demon’s dark power was still present, oozing off of his right side as if it were smoke, now lazily flowing into the atmosphere instead of rushing into his sword. The difference, the biggest one, was the demon’s left.

The bandage glove had all but burned off, its pieces simply ashes fallen on the ground. Its absence gave away fire burning out of the god’s arm, but not randomly. The demon’s skin on his forearm looked as though it was made of obsidian, only having some cracks exposing a fiery lava-like glow. And those cracks perfectly depicted a mark of a long dragon circling the god’s arm, its open mouth over the back of his hand. The rest of his hand had more tiny cracks, as if its obsidian looking crust was close to crack into pure lava.

His sword, which he still held on his right hand, was now, as well, glowing, but only half of it. It looked as though its smooth obsidian, inside, was giving way to a solid lava, daring to take over the whole blade.

 

When Keith raised his chin, he had his eyes closed, but not for long. As his eyelids slid open, his eyes were brighter than usual. They only had glowed this way two times prior to this, a still conscious part of his mind reminded him.

Where before there was black, on his pupils, now was a glowing shade of purple.

He bit back a whine.

This transformation has always been painful to him. Granted, the first one had been way worse than this time, but Keith still couldn’t get used to it. The way his normal soft skin hardened into obsidian as his dragon mark turned into cracks of lava and fire stung like hell.

He wasn’t even sure if using his dragon side was meant to be this painful, but to him, it was.

Still, with his arm shaking, he stood tall.

Not on his own, though.

Keith’s consciousness was something now far from lucidity. It was like he was living the images before him from a distance, having some sort of fog clouding his sight. The sounds came to him as echoes, as if he was distant from the scene.

His footing moved but he hadn’t willed his legs to. He didn’t _feel_ himself moving.

When he slightly lifted his left forearm and curled his hand into a fist, it hadn’t been his mind that ordered his body to do so.

It was only then that he noticed… The pain he was feeling in his left arm was, now, fleeting. It was hardly there, just a little inconvenience in the back of his mind. Even though he felt more like _he_ himself was in the back of _his_ own mind.

He felt as though he was having a lucid dream, where every movement his mind demanded his body to do, came out on an entirely different way that he did not mean to.

Alarming thoughts flared through his conscious mind.

_Something was wrong._

At that moment, however, Keith almost had no time to panic. That because, as his eyes focused from his burning hand to his front, he saw the Viking getting himself up.

Slowly, Vali was on his feet again, loosely holding his axe. His teeth were gritted, and his posture, for the initial second, was brittle. But not for long, as his eyes almost seemed to glow with pure rage as he growled and lunged himself forward, back into battle.

It was no surprise. He was a Viking. Pain was his friend.

Keith was frozen. Which was quite ironic considering his arm was literally set on fire by lava. But he couldn’t move, he didn’t give any command to his body to react. He would take a pretty hardcore hit, but he didn’t even think of that.

It was almost difficult for him to think.

When his left hand moved up, Keith only watched in shock. Before he gave in, and let it be.

He juggled his weapon to his other hand, not even surprised when the handle of his sword didn’t even melt upon contact. Quickly, then, he pointed his right hand towards the running Viking, and all the dark matter that was fluttering out of his body rushed into his arm, into his hand.

And when it leaked into the atmosphere again, it was fast.

However, it was not used as a stun tactic alike it had been in his previous battle.

Instead, the darkness remained solid, almost slimy, and went for the Viking’s chest. When it hit him, making a surprised yelp come out of him, the dark matter hardened, as it could grip him like if it were any other solid matter.

With a quick jerk of his hand, where the dark matter was still attached to, Keith abruptly brought his open palm up, almost over his shoulder. Mimicking the movement of its master, the dark matter did the same, taking the Viking with it, literally sending him flying. Until it let go of him, and the Viking landed further from the demon’s left, right by the edge of the arena.

The crowd gasped, astonished.

When landing on the ground, on his right shoulder, Vali grunted loudly as the sand burning against his skin stung. His breathing was heavy with exhaustion as his glare fell upon the Hybrid, who had turned around to face him again, never leaving his spot in the middle of the arena.

Those glowing eyes were fixed on him.

The Viking observed as the blade of the Underworld god’s sword completely turned into glowing, hot lava, looking as though it was contained inside a thin layer of glass. Or, even better, that the lava itself hardened into a blade, but never cooled down, in fact, its heat raised even more.

Growling, Vali made a move standing to his feet, trying not to stumble, with the help of his axe. This was really getting into his nerves. This demon was throwing him around like a ragdoll, making him look like a fool. Like a _weak_ fool.

And he wasn’t even making a move as Vali recovered anymore. He was _waiting_ for him _to get up_. He was mocking the Viking, right to his face.

So, with a new-found fury, Vali concluded that this was it. There was only one thing he could do to stop this, to stop the looks he saw from the side coming from the audience. Of shock to see the best fighter getting destroyed by a random Underworld _soldier._

He was ending this fight right here, right now.

Sternly, Vali clutched his axe’s handle with his right hand, close to his side. He lifted it up from the ground, feeling its weight, and as his eyes lifted from his weapon to the Hybrid, the numerous details on his axe’s iron started to glow in its lime green, never stopping.

His voice, as it came out of his lips, sounded like a low growl, only heard by himself.

-“ _This. Ends. **Now**_.”

With his own arm trembling as he held the axe, Vali brought it slightly backward, and with no hesitation, he threw it forward, letting go of his axe in the exact moment he should have.

As his weapon hurled in the air, as time seemed to slow down, the Viking noted his aim was perfect, and the strength put into the throw made it fast. Surely its result would be demising.

There was no way the Hybrid would be able to dodge this.

It was fitting that Keith didn’t even try to move out of the way.

Three heartbeats passed by, as the only movement Keith attempted to make was with his left arm. He brought it up, with a little force, aiming his glowing lava sword right towards the axe that was incoming too rapidly.

His sword’s glow lighted up his face, bringing out the purple glow in his eyes, highlighting his sharply furrowed eyebrows, his showing gritted teeth, his concentrated expression. Until bits of lime green appeared by his face, in little subtle shades, just at the moment the axe of his opponent was about to collide with him.

With his sword, which he held oblique to his face.

A shockwave flared though the arena once again, one last time, this night.

But the shockwave, this time, did not wave through it by every side. Only one. Forward, against the Viking’s weapon.

Just as the tip of the blade of the axe collided with the Hybrid’s sword, it seemed as though it was going to crush the sword, break it in half, like it always happened. Instead, the axe felt its blade melt upon contact with the sword, just a tiny bit, just for a flash of a second, before the shockwave happened.

Fire combusted as green lit up the middle of the arena. In no time at all, however, the fire emerging from the sword grew higher, greater, furious, as it conquered the lime glow.

Within the combustion caused by the touch of both weapons, the axe gave out. It crumbled into tiny pieces of iron that were sent airborne, before some fell by the demon’s feet, and others sprawled around the general area, some really close to the Viking.

The looks on every and each members of the audience in the seats were all different variations of amazement and shock. After the loud sound of the combustion and its shockwave, as well, there was a deafening silence. No cheering, no gasping, no booing. Just pure nothingness.

For Odin, what had happened before his very own eyes?

Vali’s look was one of pure shock, astonished with what had just happened.

His weapon… it was tailored for him; it was made for one who truly held brute strength in them. Raw power.

But it was gone… It

It had been destroyed… By an Underworld Soldier.

_An Underworld soldier._

Were… all Galra this powerful? Or at least held weapons this powerful?

If so… Vali might have… underestimated his opponent. And all of those alike him, of his nation, who Vali so used to say he could tear through them like a knife through butter.

The Overworld wasn’t prepared for this. It wasn’t prepared to match the Underworld’s power…

As he handed his own sword to his own right hand again, the demon’s eyes were watching him. Standing tall, with fire burning out of his left arm, into the night’s air, and dark matter seeping out of his right side, doing just the same.

The Viking didn’t realize he was gaping. The expression on his face had slowly morphed from shock to fright, even if subtly, but it was there, on his now, darker eyes, looking like soaked greenery after heavy rain.

He was the one who imposed this duel, the challenger, and the one who also pushed this far.

And now, the fate he had carefully tailored for himself, was about to unfold.

The Hybrid’s left hand curled into a fist. He drew it back with no tint of hesitation, and right then, he launched it forward.

Fire came out of his fist like fire coming out of a dragon’s mouth, flaring its hellish way towards the still frozen Viking. Only that it did not hit him. Instead, the fire hit the floor until it formed a wall on his right side. As the fire blast stopped, Keith drew his hand back again, and as he launched it forward, it did the same thing, but to Vali’s left.

The third time the Hybrid drew a punch and launched his continuous, enormous fire string forward, it was clear it was aimed right at the Viking’s chest.

Feeling his eyes widening as he saw the incoming fire hurling towards him, Vali acted upon reflex and put his arms, in the form of an ‘x’, in front of himself for protection, as he hid his head low. When the fire hit him, he could feel it stinging his flesh, he could feel it burning off the fur on his armguards.

But it stopped just as it hit him, as he let his arms fall to his sides, smoke coming out of them and his red skin. If he were a human, he was sure he would be experiencing third degree burns by now.

His chest was heaving as he gasped for air, having his shoulders lowered, as his head. His knees were weak, but he would never let anyone notice that.

_He was a warrior, son of Odin. He was the face of power and might. He was one of the best fighters in the academy. The best, even._

The Hybrid held his sword low on his right hand. It was still glowing just as much as before, little flames burning into life here and there, just for some small moments.

He, too, was breathing heavily. He wasn’t even feeling the heat he was sure he should be feeling from his left side. His consciousness was dizzy, as reality had been swept off his feet for various minutes, now.

He saw it all. He _did_ it all, _somehow_ …

_How…?_

His right arm was moving. He could feel his emotions raging on his head, so loud, so _red_.

Anger, fury, rage, any negative emotions that emoted the color red. Those were his fuel, his drive. And they were so compelling, so demanding. It was like those were being imposed on him, amplified somehow. Like if… Like if they were being used by something to gain his approval.

He didn’t even know he had consented it.

Before he knew it, before anyone in the audience, or even his opponent, could predict it, his right arm was arched to his side, sword pointing upward.

He heard a loud growl escape his mouth as his whole body lunged forward, in a leap, and his right arm jerked forward. As his fingers uncurled, his hand let go of his sword. At the exact right moment.

Almost instantly, the blade took its target by surprise. A sizzling sound came out of it as it sunk into the Norse god’s flesh, alike burning hot iron when sunk into freezing cold water. The chocked scream that came out of its victim’s mouth was deafening, bloodcurdling, contrasting with all the gasps and panicked shouts of the crowd.

He fell to his knees, hands aimlessly roaming his chest, trying and failing to clutch the weapon.

If he were a human, blood would already be streaming out of his mouth, leaking out of his wound, but it wasn’t. He was a god, gods didn’t bleed. But it was clear how his own life was bleeding out of him, drop by drop.

With trembling hands, the Norse god willed himself to look up one last time at the Hybrid, who was watching him with a low gaze. His bared teeth showed his little canines well, even in the distance, even through a distorted vision. But there was something in his eyes different from last time Vali saw them.

They were subtly wide, as the demon lightly trembled. It couldn’t possibly be easy for their crowd to see, but Vali could. It was like if he was only now reacting to his own decision, of throwing his sword, in a deadly hit.

Only now had he recognized what he had done.

That was the last image Vali’s mind could capture, before his eyelids gave in.

He fell to his side, his shoulder hitting the ground, lifeless.

A heartbeat passed, as the crowd remained silent, until the inevitable happened. Vali’s body, now lifeless, started to disintegrate into burning ashes with a combustion coming from within. In seconds, his bulky silhouette was gone, as the now grey ashes fell to the ground like feathers.

The sword itself fell, too, making a dull clank sound as it hit the ground, its blade now back to its normal, cold obsidian.

All around, in the seats towering above, the students looked around, speechless, sharing looks of terror and shock. This fight, had been something they had never seen, it was alike something they’d hear stories about only. It was something new, and astonishing, as equally terrifying.

Even to the three gods on one of the higher seats, watching the demon’s left side turned to them.

Lance’s eyes were blown completely wide, showing off the now dark blue glint on his pupils. His lips were parted, lightly, before he spoke, softly, faintly.

-“What… just happened…?”

There was a long pause, where neither of his friends answered, until to his left, he heard Hunk’s voice, almost perfectly mirroring his own tone. –“Vali’s _gone_ … _How_ … He… He was our _greatest fighter_ …”

-“Well…”- Pidge began, again, with the same tone as her friends. She was staring down, towards the Underworld god, who stood still on his spot. –“Not anymore…”

 

Keith’s consciousness was growing back. As he blinked, he could feel it radiating in waves through his body. The pain of his still burning arm, of his skin turned to rock, was all too overwhelming for him. He bit back a pained whine as he winced, shutting his eyes closed.

He focused on his uneven breathing, trying his hardest to steady it, and perhaps, he was failing to. As his legs trembled, he could tell he was about to fall over. His energy was growing slim, due to the exertion coming from wielding two powers at the same time, one of them which physically harmed him.

_I… Killed him…_

A voice in his mind seemed to have finally caught up.

_That’s… That’s not…_

As he opened his eyes, in the wobbly purple shine, panic was the only emotion present in them. He tried to stand tall, to resist to all this pain and lack of energy, and emotional exhaustion.

When he forced his eyes to look up, to roam around the crowd in the seats, he saw them frozen, just alike he was. There was no loud reaction, no cheering, no protesting.

Behind him, the two torches that were still ablaze combusted, once again, in a large explosion of fire.

This time, announcing the end of the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it – if you did, please comment to let me know to keep me motivated to post more! Besides, I’d love to interact with yall.
> 
> Notes on Chap1: I’ve realized how this chapter is mostly told through Keith’s pov, and that’s mainly because he’s the agent who is changing and going through most changes in the story at the moment, but expect the other chapter’s povs to be diverse between characters.
> 
> This one is 50k+ because it’s the beginning. Expect chapters to be, normally, around 20k, maybe 30k… pls help…
> 
> Updates Monthly, usually on Friday, because, c’mon, it takes a long time to write 20k+ chapters…and am so tired…
> 
> If you wanna keep yourself updated, or you just wanna know more about the story, or even just talk to me, you can mainly reach me through:
> 
> TUMBLR @spacefirebender. 
> 
> That’s it. That’s all my social media…  
> Anyway, o/


	2. Actions Have Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again...

Well into the night, and early morning, there was more movement in the academy’s realm than normally was. Awake students and teachers sat by the agora or by their rooms chatting, gossiping, not able to sleep. Guards marched around every possible road they could cover, even in the most closed off areas of the realm, like the wilderness close to the realm’s borders.

That was not the case on the main palace. It was completely silent. Even the troops on it were standing still, not daring to say a word, or make a noise.

On the upper levels of the palace, by a tower invading the sky, was a tiny room. Its atmosphere had a vibe unlike the public rooms in the building: It obviously was very private, having many details that just identified its user’s essence. Alike many books and scrolls stored, there were statues and little tributes stacked on shelves and placed on top of furniture.

Now, in the dead of night, the only thing lighting the room was a candle placed on a wooden desk, emitting off a trembling light that cast little animated shadows on the bookshelf just before it.

On the other side of the desk, backs turned to the bookshelf and the door to their right, were two figures. One was standing, tiredly, but still tall, looking down to the other, by their right. That one was seating low on a comfortable chair that was placed right in front of the desk. Their expression, however, was incredibly uncomfortable.

In front of them, on the other side of the desk, stood another figure.

Allura had her eyebrows creased and eyes closed, as her head hung low, lost in an internal debate. Suddenly, however, as her eyes opened, she turned to the desk completely and loudly beat her palms on it, making the other presences flinch.

She had been too quiet ever since this meeting, trying to keep her cool, but now… she couldn’t hold back all the raging thoughts that crossed her mind.

_It just didn’t make sense._

And yet… she was not surprised. Although, she surely was furious.

-“ _What were you thinking?!?!”-_ Allura urged as she glared down to the seating god, who winced at her words, just as distant thunder crackled in the background. –“Do you have _any_ idea of the implications of what you’ve _just done_?!?”

Before her, Keith blinked, too taken aback by her sudden outburst. Surely, he hadn’t expected the temper of the Queen of the Greek Overworld to rise so quickly, and never to this scale. Though it was obvious that she couldn’t stand him, or the idea of him at least. Allura had made that really clear in their first meeting.

Honestly, it served him right. Allura was sure that welcoming a god like him in the Overworld would have terrible consequences - she had urged those same concerns in a large meeting she had with many other gods, most of them agreeing with her. Sadly, they all, like Allura, also agreed that they needed a break from a continuous war. Too many casualties were happening on their side, way too fast.

Yet, even with the war frozen between most Overworld realms and the Underworld, casualties were _still happening_. Still because of _a_ _Galra_.

And there he was, almost sinking in the chair before her with one of the most sheepish looks she had ever seen on a Galra’s face. To Allura’s mind, such look almost deserved pity, if it were coming from anyone who hadn’t just spilled metaphorical blood.

-“I- I was just-“

Hearing his reluctant, hesitant voice, Allura held her palm towards him, shushing him instantly. -“You’ve killed a member of _my academy_! That is absolutely _NOT_ what a diplomat’s mission is!! I cannot believe I even need to _say this_ out loud!”

Although she had no mirror in front of her – besides the wobbly bright glint on the Underworld god’s eyes reflecting her movements – she could tell that if looks could kill – excluding Medusa’s in this case – Allura’s surely would have set Keith on fire right there and then.

It was in that moment, that contrasting with the tense atmosphere between both Allura and Keith, the third figure’s voice came out calm and rational.

-“Alright, let’s all just agree to be reasonable with this.”- Shiro said, standing by Keith’s left, as he loosely extended both his forearms to each side. –“We haven’t heard Keith’s part of the story, yet…”

For some brief moments, Allura’s gaze flicked to him, and even though it was still severe, it wasn’t as much as it had been when on Keith. Although, truth be told, Allura wasn’t really in the mood to listen to this, _this Galra_ excuse himself and his actions. She just felt like sending him to oblivion right here, right now, but she really couldn’t.

The Overworld would suffer if she lost her cool. So, acting as any reasonable leader would, she didn’t. Instead, she tried to steady her voice as she answered.

-“Yes, you are right, Shiro.”- When she shifted her accusing eyes towards Keith, her voice seemed to mimic her gaze just the same. –“By all means, let’s _hear it_.”

Hearing such hostile yet controlled tone sent shivers down Keith’s spine. He felt as though he had sunk even more on the chair, if that was even possible. Slowly, afraid of making any sudden movements that could possibly reward him with a painful consequence, he glanced towards Shiro.

It wasn’t like his usual self to be this quiet, or even this… passive. He wasn’t like that when he was younger with anybody, but now he only was himself with those he shared some trust, and felt like he could be comfortable with them.

But with such imposing authority figures… he learned to lower his head, as any respectful soldier would. Especially when in the wrong. Or else he knew – it was drilled in his mind, memories of pain – that his punishment would get a whole lot worse.

Fortunately, what he found on Shiro’s expression wasn’t aggression alike the one on the Queen’s face. Shiro’s eyes, there was something about them, were always _so kind_. Those little, hardly visible wrinkles around them, somehow, made him seem even more understanding.

He had a little encouraging tilt on his lips – it couldn’t be called a smile, not in these circumstances – that made Keith feel that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to suffer terribly for his stupid actions.

So, as he looked back forward, not being able to face the Queen’s gaze, he focused his sight on the table, as he frowned. After exhaling deeply from his mouth, he felt his lips moving, his voice sounding almost breathless.

-“Okay, so… I was just in fighting class after _this one_ matchup with this _Viking_ guy and…”

He hesitated, wondering if it was necessary to share all the details, about Vali’s and Lance’s fight. And it felt so weird in his mind to call Poseidon’s child by his name because… They were so distant, and the only lack of distance they had sometimes had been negative. It just felt wrong to call someone who wasn’t close to him by their personal name…

Yet again, he was in the Overworld, and how he was about to severely discover, it really was different from the Underworld, and Keith couldn’t possibly understand it without help. However, even though he was sure calling others by their personal name – without them urging him to – was normal here, it just felt so weird to him.

Then again, what else could he call Lance? Poseidon’s kid? There were plenty of them, maybe even in the academy.

–“… and _Lance_ ,”- He almost flinched, noting how foreign it felt to say his name. –“and the Viking dude just came up to us. And all of a sudden, he just started to _rile me up_ saying I didn’t belong here and that he wanted to put me in my place or whatever he meant… So, then he challenged me for a duel-“

His ramble was interrupted by Allura’s pointed tone. –“And you, _of course_ , just accepted it…”

There was a little pause before Keith continued, now with a less fiery tone. –“Yeah, I just… I just thought I’d fight this guy, teach him a lesson, that’s all.”

Crossing his arms, Shiro calmly intervened in the conversation – or, well, interrogation. –“What changed your mind?”

Not even looking up at Shiro, Keith sighed deeply, melting into a puddle - in terms of posture - on the chair. Somehow, his tone started to gain bite again. –“ _Look_ , I know this guy’s reputation. I know he’s _killed_ other students before. And at some point in the fight, I just knew he was _after me_. I knew after some hits he just _wanted_ to get rid of me.”

There was a brief pause, of silence, before Shiro brought his flesh hand to his chin, and hummed. –“So what you’re saying is… what you did in the end of the fight, it was in self-defense?”

As if it had to be obvious, Keith responded with an aggravated: -“ _YES_!”

Observing Shiro looking down at his disciple, Allura furrowed her eyebrows.

It was almost impressive the way Shiro managed to so easily get the right information out of the young god. Allura admired his patience as well. She was in the brink of losing her calm, and she was sure she would, sometime during this conversation, had Shiro not persisted to be there, too.

In all fairness, she feared he’d just inconveniently interfere, and defend his disciple’s wrong doings just because, well, that was kind of his job. Yet, he was standing there, with the most impartial tone he could muster. And even though it was obvious he was more leaning towards defending the demon, he was also not putting in question that what Keith had done had been wrong, and Allura’s feelings of resentment towards it were valid.

Which was appreciated.

After Keith’s voice, there had been a little pause, of at least a minute, in the conversation. All gods seemed pensive, in their own ways.

In Allura’s case, it was undeniable she was still fighting against her raging emotions, who urged her to lose it. To just drop a lightening bolt on the demon’s head and call it a day. To run him through her spear. Here was this, this _damned Galra_ disrupting the realm her grandfather created, with his nonsensical murderous mentality.

Yet he was, compared to the other gods in the room, just a kid. She wondered if he had even been prepared in the Underworld to deal with this mission, and came to the conclusion that either he has and all this nonsensical behavior was intentional, or he really came here in the dark.

Somehow, the latter seemed more accurate, to her instincts.

Which brought many concerning questions to her mind. Like, why send an unexperienced god in diplomacy to do this mission?

Allura was aware he didn’t have any diplomatic background, that he was a soldier, but never had she expected that such a fundamental rule such as ‘ _no killing’_ went over his head and had to actually be explained to him…

She came to a conclusion then, that either he was _that dense_ , or killing had been so mortifyingly normalized in the Underworld that he just, thought it was normal in the Overworld, too. Which was… deeply concerning.

Sighing, Allura leaned herself away from her desk as she pinched the bridge of her nose. –“… I must confess that Vali did give me a lot of problems in the past, and surely would give me more headaches in the future.”- She turned fully towards them. –“However, what you have done is extremely wrong.”

Frowning, with his eyes somehow tender, Keith lowered his head, and spoke in a low voice. –“I know… I’m sorry.”

-“Sorry is not enough.”- Taking in Allura’s firm tone, he looked up with a mildly surprised look.

He really was thinking he could just barge in her grandfather’s realm and just cause a racket, wasn’t he?

Well, he was wrong. And even though Allura was catching up, mentally, with the subtler reasons behind Keith’s bloodthirsty mistake, which – and she hated to admit it – were kind of understandable, they were still not excusable. There was a large line between the significances of both words.

Just because Allura sort of understood the drive of his actions, it didn’t mean she was going to excuse them, neither let anyone do so.

Either way, Galra or not, he had to be judged fairly; he was going to be treated equally. She knew this, as any good ruler had to. It was the moral way. That was _Alfor’s way_ , and Allura would never dishonor his memory by opting for any other, at least intentionally, at least aware of what she was doing.

So, with a steadying exhale, she eased some tension off her wary heart and proceeded, fairly. –“You, a _supposed_ diplomat, do not get to call such decisions and think all is going to work out for you, simply because you have the right excuses.”

Before she could proceed to carry out her judgement, Shiro took a subtle step forward, respectfully interjecting.

-“We understand that, your Highness.”- He began, as he placed both his hands, formally, behind his back. –“But as Keith’s mentor, I have to speak up for him. Of course he’s at fault here, but he’s not the only one. The other god, Vali, started this with his taunting, and ended it with the intentions of trying to kill my student.”

-“Keith has already explained how he only did this in self-defense,”- Shiro continued as he looked down at his disciple for a brief second. –“but I think we can all agree that he shouldn’t have made the call to even get in that arena. He should have come to us, instead of breaking the rules with an illegal duel.”- There was a pause as he respectfully lowered his gaze, with a sober tone in his expression. –“For that, I can’t vouch for.”

The Queen kept her stern gaze on Shiro for some more brief seconds, before she glanced to the side. With an exhale, she let her shoulders fall, looking as though they weren’t as tense. When she spoke, there was a softer tone in her voice.

-“I appreciate your understanding, as well as I acknowledge the logic behind your argument, which I agree with to some extent.”- She united both her hands in front of her stomach. –“However, this whole ordeal is more complex than it seems. Although he was a headache, Vali was greatly estimated by the Norse realm, including its leader, and his father, Odin.”

-“I’ve met the god. He’s…”- Shiro grimaced, scrambling to come up with a word Allura knew had to be truthful, but also respectful. –“uhm, he’s _something_ , for sure…”

-“Something hard to deal with.”- Allura said, matter-of-factly, as she shook her head. –“Odin will come for Vali and demand answers. And once those are given to him, that the Underworld student he was so opposed to welcome into the Overworld was the one _to cease_ Vali’s life, he will demand the debt to be paid.”

Silent for most of the exchange, Keith inhaled a shaky breath from his mouth, loud enough for both Allura and Shiro to notice and to divert their looks at him, only briefly. Shiro was the one who kept his gaze on his student the longest, with a preoccupied frown on his face.

After a little moment, he looked up at the Queen with a decisive tone. –“That _can’t_ happen.”

Allura seemed to mimic his expression for the first time that night.

-“I must say, I was quite reluctant to welcome Keith as well… and even more so now, after this whole _situation_.”- Allura frowned deeply as she gazed at the top of her desk, bringing her united hands slightly upward. –“… But I know that this is the best chance for the Overworld to see peace any time soon.”

When she admitted her last statement, she lifted her gaze to meet Keith’s, and there was a look in her eyes, a warning, as she spoke. -“That is the _only_ reason as to why I have not exiled you from this realm and the Greek ones, yet. _Do not_ , make me rethink this decision.”

Keith remained staring up at her as the Queen spoke, not daring to interrupt her in any way. When three heartbeats passed by the conversation, in silence, he noted her warning had been the final point of her speech, for now.

To his side, he could feel Shiro’s stare boring into his head, too, obviously expecting.

And Keith didn’t really know what to say, other than repeating he was sorry over and over again until somehow, he got the message across. But that wouldn’t do, he was lucid enough to know that. He had made a major mistake, his life was on Allura’s hands now, or at least his fate. He was smart enough to know he had to be respectful.

Having said that, he had enough heart and common sense to have realized that, obviously, he had majorly fucked up. Really badly. And though he didn’t know how to prove to them that he was regretting his mistake and should stay, he could at least try to do so with words.

That definitely wasn’t his specialty… But words had to do, for now.

He took in a shaky inhale, and as he exhaled, he shut his eyes and winced. –“… I’m sorry.”- He started, with a low, tender voice, almost faint in the night’s silence, as he looked up. –“I, I really am. You probably don’t believed me, but, it’s true. It’s… genuine. And I’m,”- He shakily sighed. –“I’m thankful that you’re giving me this second chance…”

Keith frowned, looking to the side as he continued. –“… I… don’t think I deserve it… but, thanks. And… whatever you have in store for me, you know to… to _atone_ for my error, I, I’ll take it.”

As Keith finished, he almost timidly glanced a hesitant look up to Allura, before he looked to the side again. Even though he had looked to the side halfway, Allura could tell, by the look in his eyes, by the way his nervous body language had been – and still was – that he was probably speaking the truth.

The way his voice wobbled, almost as though he’d be on the brink of tearing up at any second, was a clear give away.

To his side, a little smile took Shiro’s lips, as a kind, soft look was in his eyes. Almost naturally, he lightly placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder, and as his student looked up, he saw the little smile Shiro was wearing.

It looked as though he was pleased with the apology. Which had been a relief for Keith.

 

-“I’ll accept your apology.”- Allura’s announcement startled him to look at her, almost wide-eyed. It was difficult to see the emotion behind her unfazed expression and stoic voice. –“I’ll also announce your sentence after the incoming meeting with Odin.”

In that moment, Shiro collected his arm to himself, and regarded Allura with an equally serious tone. –“When will you call this meeting?”

-“I won’t, Odin _already has_.”- She noticed the way Shiro grimaced subtly. –“It was agreed that it would take place in the Oracle, by the end of tomorrow’s sunset. I will try my best to keep things civil and have Odin agree to a lighter penalty than death, as well as one that will not put in jeopardy the pact with the Underworld.”

Shiro nodded, taking in the information dutifully. –“And who will be there? I know for sure Keith can’t go, but… I feel like I should.”- He placed his sharp-looking prosthetic hand over his heart. –“The more gods advocating for peace, the better.”

-“Other than Odin and myself, I had no one else in mind.”- Allura pointed her united hands towards him, briefly. –“But considering your offer, it does make sense that you should be there. After all, Keith is here representing the Underworld, but you are here _representing Keith_. Your aid would be greatly appreciated.”

Smiling kindly, Shiro dutifully nodded, again. –“It’s settled, then.”

And before such smile, Allura felt her own expression easing, from formal, to slightly more relaxed, having, even, a tiny ghost of a smile on her lips. -“It is.”- There was a pause. –“Now, I advise you both to rest. It’s been a long night.”

-“Of course. Have a good night, your Highness.”

As Shiro spoke with a little bow, he looked down at Keith, who was observing him, and made a motion with his head for Keith to get up and follow him.

When Keith did get back on his feet, his posture was lower, like he was dragging his body around. To be fair, he was still tired because of the fight, and was in desperate need of getting some energy back into his system. Sleep was probably the best option.

Before he left the room, silent, he hesitated and turned around, looking at the queen with his eyes cast almost low. His voice was in the same tone of when he was apologizing, a bit wobbly.

-“And… thank you. For not throwing me out of here, yet.”

As he said that, he willed himself to lift his gaze, and as his eyes met the Queen’s gaze, she could see the honesty in the dark, almost watery indigo. It was like that, seeing him desperately holding back tears, looking like a lost, confused child, who just needed someone to guide them to the right path, that Allura’s mind sobered on the fact the he was still _so young_. A young adult who still didn’t have his life figured out – which was normal in that age.

So many things could change if he just worked on himself and had a hand reaching out towards him.

_The kid probably didn’t even have a childhood, much less adolescence._

Somehow, especially to the last half of such thought, Allura felt herself sympathizing with that fact. She knew how it felt like to be denied of teenagehood so she could take care of several realms that were at war, after the death of her father.

After a little pause as Keith took a loud breath, he continued, with the same, sincere tone. -“I’ll try to do better.”

Allura remained in silence for the first instances, not sure what to do with herself. In one hand, a part of her mind, of her _heart_ , was still resentful towards Keith and _his kind_. In the other, seeing those eyes, hearing that voice, which possibly couldn’t have been faked, almost made her want to help.

It was with a tight heart, and a dilemma on her mind, that Allura responded to him, in a low, respectful tone, noting it was the closest thing to kindness she had spoken to the Underworld’s young god.

-“I do hope you will.”

It seemed as though Keith gulped as he heard those words, but as he took a deep breath, he nodded, before he turned around, and left the room after Shiro.

 

 

…

 

 

Shiro had no idea that his first official full day back on the Overworld would have ended… like this.

He had walked, with Keith trying to keep up on his left side, out of the palace. In a quiet silence and a dim atmosphere, both had walked through the corridors and stairways, past unmoving guards, until the back’s grand exit took them to the gardens.

Looking at the sky, and those amazing shining stars, looking so bright from this realm, and the moon, seeming so close to them, Shiro took in a deep breath.

The sight was beautiful. Sometimes, he found himself thinking that it was more beautiful than it had ever been, before his captivity. Perhaps that was true, or maybe – like he suspected – he simply had learned to appreciate the rare sight of a clear, colorful sky.

Sadly, the tone of the atmosphere around them was grim and heavy. He lowered his head as he looked to the ground before him.

What did Keith just get himself into? Damnit, it was his _first day_. Of course, he’d be hard to deal with, Shiro should have predicted that after this first talk when they arrived to the Overworld. And now, dealing with Odin would be an even bigger pain.

Just thinking of how the meeting would go made Shiro let out an overly-tired sigh, sounding a little louder than he intended it to be. But he had to do it. For peace. For the greater good.

It was his job after all. To restore peace, in a way, or another.

-“… I’m actually really sorry.”

When he heard the faint voice coming from his side, Shiro almost took it as a whisper in the night’s breeze, before his mind reminded him that it had been Keith. Looking at the younger god, Shiro saw him almost hide his head under the hood – the kid refused to take it off his head – almost as if he was ashamed.

A fitting emotion, Shiro thought. –“I know.”- He hoped his low tone had sounded kind and comprehensive enough. –“But like I’ve said, it’s not all your fault.”

-“Yeah, I know. It was Vali’s, too.”

There was a pause in the conversation as both kept on walking on the trail that lead to their improvised, temporary settlements.

Furrowing his eyebrows, with a saddened look on his dark eyes, Shiro lowered his head to the trail beneath his feet. He kept walking like that, for a little, pensive, almost hesitating to contribute any longer towards the conversation.

Yet, he still did.

-“… And mine.”

It had been Shiro who had, now, spoken in a faint voice. Still, Keith managed to hear him just fine, and that melancholic sense on the younger god’s aura quickly gave way to a new, extremely confused expression.

With a gaping mouth, Keith rapidly turned his head to face his new mentor. -“… _What_?!”

Shiro did not even need to look at him as he answered. –“It is.”

Just as he spoke, Shiro let out a little sigh, seeming as he was deflating on himself. The look in his eyes was painfully guilty, and he felt even more so.

-“It was _my job_ to guide you.”- He proceeded to explain, his eyebrows subtly creasing. –“It was _my_ job to teach you the ways of the Overworld. _I should have been there_ and I should have already started to tell you what is and isn’t acceptable here.”- He gritted his teeth, loosely. –“But all I did was telling you that I’d teach you later. All I did was _sleeping_ while you wandered around _confused and lost.”_

_I failed… Again…_

To his side, Keith had completely stopped, Shiro stopping just some steps after him. The unbelievable expression on Keith’s face was still there, his eyebrows furrowed on a defined confused line.

–“Because… you were tired?? And needed to rest?!”

Shiro turned around then, the look on his face of pure regret. –“That’s not an excuse.”

Regarding that statement, Keith let out an exasperated breath. –“Shiro, let’s be honest here,”- He crossed his arms. –“you were _right_ , it was _my fault_ that I had to just fall for Vali’s taunts and get into that _stupid arena_. But you had _nothing_ to do with _any_ of this!”

Sighing, Shiro lowered his head.

It was true that, sometimes, Shiro’s mind used to be a little cruel to himself. Every little mistake he had ever made in his life was weighting on his shoulders. A burden to carry for eternity. All because he cared.

_He cared so much._

It had gotten worse ever since he had been taken by the Galra. Before it, he had people in his life supporting him, and since they were close to him, they knew how he was like. They knew what he needed and had to hear. That no, he couldn’t have done any better. Life was that way, and instead of torturing himself about it, Shiro should let it go.

They were right, he knew it. But ever since the Underworld was a permanent part of his life, that reassurance was completely broken. Every single move he’d make, any decision, would bring him down.

He was _so tired_ of it. Of failing. Of looking back and only seeing unfortunate decisions in his life. He was trying his hardest to do the best he could, but sometimes, it just felt like it wasn’t enough. And the greater good suffered because of his bad decisions.

_God of Wisdom_ almost seemed to be a title not fitting for him, even though all the others around him insisted that it was _perfect._

-“… Why did you do it?”- Shiro suddenly asked, after a slightly long silence, pushing his crushing thoughts aside to at least try to understand the situation. –“Why did you accept the duel?”

Faced with said questions, Keith’s eyebrows softened, before he looked away, to the floor by his side. –“I, I don’t know…”- After, his voice grew stronger, a little irritated. –“He was just challenging _me_ and getting me angry and insulting my…”- There was a little pause as Keith stopped to mull over something, and as he spoke, he did a tiny little completive frown.

-“… my _friends_ …?”

Even though it had been said faintly and in such a questioning tone, Shiro’s eyebrows still lifted as he heard that, suddenly forgetting of all his dread.

He wouldn’t like to admit it, but Shiro had been doubting that Keith would fit in, almost at all. Not only because of his background, but attitude as well. Shiro found it was actually quite relieving and somehow gratifying to hear such words.

It was just a little tint of positivity in such a messed-up situation, and Shiro welcomed that with open arms.

-“Or more like… classmates…”- Keith corrected now, still with a thoughtful look on his face. It still didn’t bring Shiro’s spirits down, it was _progress_. –“And I can’t back down from a challenge, so I just…”- Keith stopped himself as he sighed and passed his hand through his hair, the gesture taking off his hood. –“I _thought_ it’d be fine if I taught him a lesson because he’s been an _asshole_ to some kids here, and I,”

There was some sort of hesitation on Keith’s speech, and when he spoke again, the edge of his previous voice was gone, replaced with a gloomy tenderness. –“… I know how it’s like to be bullied. I just wanted to…”- He sighed again, placing his hand on the back of his head as he lowered his head.

–“I don’t know. _I don’t know…”_

Silence fell between them as Shiro observed him. Keith’s reasons seemed to be valid, to some extent. Shiro had learned about some things about the Viking just as the outcome of this duel reached his ears, and truth be told, he really didn’t like those things.

Of course, murder wasn’t the answer. It was wrong of Keith for doing so. However, he also recognized the Norse god had also chose this outcome. He chose his fate. Karma had to hit him hard one time or another.

Yet again, maybe it wasn’t Keith’s place to bring said karma to that god’s life. Shiro could never excuse that. Vali wasn’t a tyrant, he wasn’t Zarkon, he was still young and could learn and change with the right influence and help, just like Keith can.

Although… Keith wasn’t wrong in wanting to teach him a lesson, either. He just went _too far_. And sometimes, as Shiro knew, those who wanted to do good things, who had good intentions behind their actions, just took them too far, and they, like that, fell on the wrong, too. Just because they weren’t able to _control_ themselves in crucial times.

_Too much darkness can ruin the world._ – He heard an ethereal voice repeat itself in his mind, one he had heard a long time ago. – _Yet, too much light, can be blinding._

-“Okay…”- Shiro began after a little while. –“I think I’m starting to get the picture, here.”

Surprisingly, there was a pained look on Keith’s features, as he winced, shutting his eyes closed. –“Actually… you’re not…”

As Keith started to walk again, with his head lowered, Shiro raised his eyebrow, watching him go for a second before catching up.

When Shiro was just by Keith’s side again, he looked down at his disciple. -“ _What do you mean_?”

Regarding said question, Keith didn’t look up, nor stopped. He exhaled a long breath from his mouth, like if he was trying to muster enough emotional energy to speak.

-“I… lied, earlier.”- With a low voice, Keith confessed. –“It kind of was meant to be in self-defense, but it, _kind of wasn’t_ …”

Hearing that, Shiro frowned. –“How so…?”

-“… So, in the middle of the fight I activated my… my other half.”

Unconsciously, Keith brought up his now patched left arm, feeling his usual flesh back in place now that he wasn’t using his power and a large cool down time had passed. Still, there was a bitter expression in his gaze as he looked down at it, as he flexed his hand, curling it into a fist and then uncurling it.

-“ _My fire_.”- As he said that, his tone went graver. –“After that, it just all went downhill. I started to… to _lose_ my control, and I don’t know _how_ or _why_ that happened. All I knew was that, one second I was struggling, and the other I as on autopilot.”

He turned his head towards Shiro, but refused to look him in the eye, as he spoke with bitterness. -“ _I could have spared him… but I didn’t_.”

Before such explanation, bewildered, Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. It took him some time to assimilate the information that had just been confessed to him.

-“When you meant that,”- Shiro tried, tentatively. –“you were on ‘ _autopilot_ ’, was that just an expression or…”

Keith’s answer had been uttered with no hesitation. -“Literally. Like I couldn’t control my body anymore.”- He crossed his arms, as he looked to the side with a thoughtful frown. –“It was like… _something else was_ …”- Right as he said that, Keith stopped himself, his eyes growing a little wide as some sort of realization hit him.

The look on his eyes as he glanced at Shiro were pleading, of panic, as he uncrossed his arms and showed his palms to the other god. –“I, _I know_ it just sounds like I’m making this all up as an excuse or whatever, but I’m not-“

Shiro interrupted as he noticed the panic on his student’s voice. –“I know, I can see that.”

Regarding the calm answer, a look of confusion was back on Keith’s face. –“… How…?”

-“It’s part of my powers.”- Shrugging, Shiro casually explained. –“One of my passive powers is comprehending the emotions of other beings at a larger scale. Kind of an… _enhanced empathy_.”

Shiro had found he had some sort of empathy power when he was really young. Granted, he had always that natural empathy, coming from his tendency to care a lot. It was part of his heart, part of his soul. He was naturally kind, and thoughtful, and seeking of good. He always tried to understand other’s views before casting his judgement.

That power, when he noticed it had manifested, just enhanced his intuition in sentimental regards. It just helped him understand other’s emotions on a broader scale, which would be a great tool when he was trying to understand someone and help them.

Hence why beings tended to feel like it was just easier and natural to confide in him, to bond with him. Because of his kindness, and understanding, and patience. Without even knowing himself, Shiro’s presence was, in itself, _healing_ to many.

-“I can see, right now, that you’re speaking with honesty.”

He had felt the same way when Keith had apologized to Allura just a few minutes ago. That was why Shiro had felt the urge to place his hand on the kid’s shoulder. A silent sign of his approval.

There was an unreadable look of Keith’s face - Shiro figured Keith was just trying to assimilate the information – before Keith nodded, in acceptance. –“Well, that’s good…”

-“I also assume you didn’t tell that part of losing control to Allura because you were afraid that’d be it for you.”

It felt like Keith was reluctant to admit it, as his voice – and body language, for that matter – was sheepish. –“Basically…”

At that, Shiro smiled. –“Good, because I don’t think it’d do this situation any good. We’ll try to figure out what happened, I’ll help you with that.”- He looked forward as they walked, noting they were about to reach their separate ways. –“In the meantime, I want you to not go to class for at least seven days. I feel like there’s many things I need to teach you before you walk out unsupervised again.”

-“… Thanks,”- Keith felt like he had been saying that a lot lately. –“really, I, I know it’s your job, but… I still feel like I need to thank you for vouching for me.”

Hearing that, Shiro let out a little huff of air, sounding like a chuckle. –“It’s okay.”- Both of them stopped as they reached the parting ways towards their chambers. –“To be honest, I sympathize with you. I’ve been in a similar situation.”

-“Really?”

-“Yeah…”- Shiro’s look, and tone of voice, lowered, grew subtly gloomy. –“I was scared and lost the first time I woke up in the Underworld. Of course, the circumstances are different, and… I had help later, but I just wish I could have been helped the first years, in that totally different world from what I was used to.”

To his surprise, Keith didn’t protest about Shiro implying he must have been feeling scared and lost. Then again, he probably figured it was a waste of time doing so, now that he was aware Shiro could probably sense his true emotions if he just concentrated a little.

So, instead of protesting, Keith simply nodded, halfway turned to him and the path leading to his temporary place. –“Must have been… horrible.”

A little, bitter chuckle left Shiro’s mouth. –“It was. That’s why I want to help you. I can’t see someone going through similar struggles I did, and just let it happen.”

He didn’t need to concentrate to figure a little bond had established between him and Keith just at that moment, when Keith finally realized – Shiro hoped – that Shiro wasn’t his enemy. He was there to help him. He wanted to understand him, and help him being understood.

Keith didn’t say anything to that. Instead, after a little, he simply looked up at Shiro, and nodded.

That was good enough for Shiro to understand the importance of that moment. This had been the moment Shiro had metaphorically reached out to Keith, and Keith actually, finally accepted it.

-“Things will work out.”- Shiro quietly said, before they parted ways for the night. –“You just have to be patient.”

 

 

…

 

 

_Pidge was home._

_The room she was in was large, and the light that came from the windows was enough to make the atmosphere of the place feel welcoming. Unlike in the Academy’s realm, in which its marble walls were so white and bright, these were filled with paint and drawings._

_The color blue was a constant around the house, Athena’s favored tone. However, there was also green, something inherited from Pidge’s father. Nature, but also technology, it signified._

_In this room in particular, the library, green seemed to be constant._

_Pidge was wearing a simple Greek tunic, with some details in green. Her hair was long, brought up on a messy ponytail._

_With her eyes closed, and twitching eyebrows, she smacked her palms on top of a desk, making one scroll of two which were stacked on it fall to the side._

_Further behind her was a door, the entry way to the large two-store library. To her left, the walls were filled with bookshelves as well as stairs leading to a second floor she could see from there, where there only were more shelves accessible by a thin runway._

_Although, there was something different from the last time she had visited this place. The colors were less vibrant, staller. Even her own._

_A sob she was holding back finally escaped her, and with that, the more control over her emotions she lost. Trembling from the sobs and the uneven breathing, tears started to lazily fall down her cheeks, which she rapidly whipped away with her knuckles._

_This was just so unfair…_

_Just as her raging thoughts were starting to gang up on her yet again, she heard a knock coming from the closed door behind her. However, she didn’t speak up, didn’t turn around or at least grunted in acknowledgement._

_She knew who it was behind that door, and she wished it wasn’t them. She wished they never came to find her to have this talk with her._

_Pidge didn’t want this. She was despising this and it_ hasn’t even started.

_But the world had its ways to come up with these cruel tricks, alike the one day the fates were no more, and the thread of destiny destroyed, leaving the universe with the task of coming up with what was next._

_Like the fall of Athena._

_With a little, thoughtful creak, she heard the door open behind her back, which only made her grit her teeth even more, trying desperately to take control of all these negative emotions clouding her spirit._

_And then, after steps, she heard that voice she knew so well, that voice she was, ironically, dreading to hear at this very moment._

_-“There you are!”- The enthusiastic older god said as he stepped in the room. –“I looked all over the estate for you!”_

_She didn’t understand it. How Matt’s voice was still so cheerful, even after such news hit them. Even after he accepted this burden that could be so threatening to his well-being. To his life, even._

_-“_ Don’t _…”- Pidge took a trembly deep breath as she noticed her shaken voice. –“don’t you_ dare _…”_

_Behind her, Matt’s look fell, twisting into a subtle gloominess as he observed his sister. They were like any other siblings, played and teased, got each other into trouble for the pettiest reasons, but they knew when to stop. They knew when the other was being dead serious just by their tone._

_Matt had recognized that in Pidge’s tone that very moment._

_So, he let his shoulders fall, as he deflated on himself. The cheerfulness that was before staining his voice was no longer there, instead, he had a tone mimicking his expression._

_-“I’m sorry, Katie…”_

_Hearing that name, even said so quietly, made Pidge shiver. She had heard it so many times now, and it still felt so… so unreal._

_-“… But I have to do this.”- continued Matt, his voice, now, sounding a little louder, more assured. –“The resistance against the Underworld needs the army of Athena to help.”- He brought his hand_ _to his heart. –“And I’m_ their _commander… They_ need _me.”_

_That last part of Matt’s speech, it was reasonable, yet it still shattered Pidge’s heart. In an instant, Pidge abruptly turned around to face him, and as she spoke, the tone on her face, and voice, was one of fury._

-“I need you, too, damnit!” _\- Although, she could not deny, there was a tint on her expression of fear and uncertainty, which she hoped was subtle, but by the look on Matt’s face, she knew it wasn’t. He could perfectly read her._

_After a little pause, in which both stood there, alike statues, not knowing what to say or do, Matt was the one to take a step forward to her. -“Come on, sis…”_

_Just as gently as his words, Matt made his way, slowly, towards his sister, noting she was not taking any step back. Once he reached her, he knelt right in front of her, having his right forearm laid on his right leg._

_Even as he spoke, there was a little smile on his face, one that emitted both pride and melancholy. –“Just look at you. I’ve watched you grow from a tiny little kid to a smart- no,_ brilliant _young_ _teenage girl.”- Pidge sniffed, as she passed her knuckle by her nose. –“You’ll do great things, even on_ your own _.”- Matt’s aura seemed to be more relaxed, now. –“Plus, you’ve got dad with you-“_

_For one or two seconds, Pidge observed him, having a little drained look on her amber eyes. She knew what Matt had said was completely honest, and knew he was right. But there was a part in her mind, in her heart, that still felt so betrayed. Perhaps Pidge wasn’t being reasonable, a wise part of her mind said, – that stupid, annoying part she inherited from her mother – however, she shut it down._

_It was her right to be upset, when her brother, one of the people who did so much for her, was putting his life in danger. Even though it was for the Overworld and the greater good that he was stepping up, an egoist part of her mind still wanted him to not go. Another person could easily take the job._

_Call her selfish, but she couldn’t lose her brother. Not after how awful she felt at the time she found out she lost her mother._

_It was with a weary heart, as she held back tears, that she quietly answered to him._

_-“I know…”- Pidge willed herself to look down at her big brother, who was still observing her with the kindest smile. –“And thanks for believing in me, but…_ _I still_ wanted _you here for, for all my accomplishments. You’ve_ always _been there…”_

_-“And I’ll_ always _be.”- Matt’s answer was instant, with no hesitation on his tone, making Pidge’s eyes subtly widen. –“I promise I’ll come back home after every battle and check up on you and dad.”- He gently placed each of his hands on each of Pidge’s forearms. –“Every. Single. One.”_

_That tone, so confident coming from her brother’s voice, almost made her believe him whole-heartedly._

_Almost._

_–“You really promise…?”- A little tentative smile appeared on her lips, perfectly mirroring her small voice. There was a little tint of doubt bubbling on her amber eyes, the light reflected on them almost making them appear golden._

_Reacting to his sister’s tone, sounding, now, lighter, Matt’s aura fully eased. There was something heavy in his eyes still, that impending sobering that he had a great responsibility on his shoulders, but it was more on the back of his mind, now._

_Getting himself up, he stood in front of his sister and answered her with a defined smile. –“I promise.”- A grin slowly started to appear on his lips. –“In fact, I’ll make a pact with you-“_

_Pidge’s eyes seemed to glint with mischief as a grin of her own appeared on them. –“A blood pact?”_

_Regarding her offer, Matt froze for two seconds, his face shocked and his mouth fallen wide open. –“… Wha-_ No _!”- Quickly, that grin – which was so much alike Pidge’s – was on his face again. –“But I’ve got something even stronger in store for it: A pinky promise!”_

_That made Pidge scoff amusedly as she crossed her arms. –“Lame.”_

_Still grinning, Matt held out his pinky in front of him as he lifted his chin and closed his eyes. –“That means you’re not gonna pinky promise…?”- Once he spoke, he peeked at his sister with one eye, a smug look on his features, giving away how he was obviously expecting her to not turn away his offer._

_As he predicted, with just a little second of hesitation, Pidge aggressively intertwined her pinky with his, as she spoke: -“No, I will, and you’ll keep that_ damn promise _.”_

_Chuckling, Matt shook his head as he got his hand back to himself after a little second. –“Now_ that’s _the Pidge I know.”_

_A smirk appeared on Pidge’s face, as her banter with her brother almost made her forget the reason she was dreading his departure. As he spoke, he had started to walk away, knowing she would follow, and she did._

_The white hallways of Athena’s estate were adorned with blues, and many pots, some with plants, others just adornments. Matt had to duck away from an occasional hanging plant, one which Pidge had playfully pushed towards his head._

_Even though the sight was so golden, so comfortable and cozy, feeling just like home, there was a little hue, a tone Pidge couldn’t quite pinpoint, that just filled that happy house with such a melancholic aura. Perhaps it was the lack of their mother’s presence._

_Both seemed to have noted it, when walking in silence for a little. Although, that little detail was left unspoken. Neither wanted upset the other more than they already were._

_The air, however, it felt heavier the more seconds stretched between now and the last word that had been spoken. And seeing that her brother wasn’t moving to say anything, Pidge pushed conversation instead._

_-“… I see mom’s solution worked for your eyesight.”_

_Matt glanced at her from his shoulder, a grin quickly melting on his face, with a little smug quirk of his eyebrows. –“Hah, mom’s solutions always work.”_

_When he turned around, Pidge’s eyebrows furrowed._

_–“They sure do…”_

_Her voice had been spoken with a faint tone. Memories of other times flooded her mind, and various sensations. Their mother was such a respectful being, and yet, who knew she would take care of her children so well? So tenderly._

_Those were the thoughts that compelled Pidge to voice her feelings. Something she did not often do._

_-“… I miss her…”_

_In front of her, Matt did not turn around, as he kept walking forward. However, she saw the way he lowered his head, and a deep breath left his nose, slowly. Following, his voice was just a murmur, perfectly mirroring Pidge’s tone._

_-“Me, too, kiddo… Me too.”_

_Pidge couldn’t see it, but Matt’s eyes subtly looked to the side, as he tried to get a look at her. Quickly, when he figured he couldn’t without her noticing, he gave up, casting his eyes low to the ground._

_The subject of their mother was something that was delicate to them. Matt had lived more moments with her than Pidge ever had, but he was sure she felt just as heartbroken as he did with her passing. He could tell she had this little fear that she kept buried deep in her heart, of losing others she cared about. Because they lost mom._

_Matt knew she didn’t want to lose him, too. Yet, he couldn’t stay. He felt like it was his duty to command his army to help. The Overworld was taking such a hit from the Underworld forces, that the more help they got, the least disasters would ensue._

_Clearly their lives were nothing but a Greek tragedy. Deep in his heart, he feared that his fate would, too, be devastating. But he couldn’t voice that. Not to Pidge, not to anyone. A smile had to be kept on his face at all times._

_That was what inspired others, right? That was what the legendary hero who was commanding the tell-tale Wardens of the Sky was known for. Perhaps, Matt could do the same with his own._

_Exhaling silently, Matt lightly shook his head._

_At that moment, he walked out of an archway, and stepped into the gardens of their mother’s realm. That same golden tone was everywhere, not too intense, but also not washed out. However, now it seemed to be that way…_

_On a whim, Matt slowed his steps to let Pidge catch up to him. Somehow, a smile was on his face again, when he glanced at her._

_-“Did you know that I’mma get to see the pyramids?”_

_Blinking, there was a little tone of wonder on Pidge’s eyes. –“You are?! Oh my gods, that’s so awesome!”- She brought her fists to her chin as her eyes seemed to glow. –“I’ve always wanted to see the Egyptian realms. I mean, the techniques behind the construction of all their buildings and artifacts are simply brilliant, and even the reasons why they adopted that iconic shape for the pyramids-“_

_-“Big Pointy Boys!”_

_Pidge was left with her mouth open mid-sentence as her enthusiastic tone slowly transformed into displeasure. –“Wow… I can’t believe you’ve singled-handedly ruined the Egyptian realms for me.”_

_To her side, Matt laughed heartedly, and she couldn’t help it but to laugh, too._

_-“Seriously though,”- Matt began as he wiped a tear away. –“it’s gonna be awesome to work alongside them. And there’s also an army of the Japanese realms coming to meet us there to form our division force.”_

_-“Sounds fun.”_

_Matt gaped at her casual comment with what seemed to be an offended tone – in a playful way. –“Sounds_ fun _?! Pidge I am so offended?! Do you know I’m going to meet and work alongside Commander Shirogane?!?”_

_Regarding that, Pidge quirked an eyebrow at him. –“Isn’t he the guy dad keeps fangirling about?”_

_If Matt had a ghost, he was sure by now it was leaving his body. –“You kidding me?? He’s a_ legendary hero _! He’s successfully defended many points of the Overworld from Galra armies more times than almost every other god!”- The only one surpassing him had been the Queen of the Olympus._

_–“Pidge, trust me, working with him, I know that every single mission’s gonna be a huge success!”_

_As he was rambling, Matt was looking at Pidge, and noticed that the amused tone in her eyes vanished, as they widened a little, and then, she cast them low. Frowning, Matt looked forward and saw that they had reached their destination._

_The portal place was right before them._

_Noticing, Matt closed his eyes shut, as the frown deepened on his face. For a little, he kept himself like that, as a little breeze blew through his hair. But then, with a little exhale, he turned to his sister. He knew it was time to bid his farewells._

_It was time to go._

_-“Well,”- With a bitter quirk on his mouth, Matt tried to look at Pidge, but found his gaze cowering away from her watery eyes. He rubbed the back of his head with his left hand, leaving the hand there, a way of self-encouragement. –“… I guess this is goodbye… For now.”_

_-“Yeah,”- Pidge’s voice was wobbly, faint, and brief. –“for now…”_

_Matt lifted his head to the sky as it seemed he pulled his own hair gently, as a reminder to just do something._

_–“Come on you big nerd,”- He continued, as he opened his arms wide to his sides, a gentle smile on his face. –“bring it in.”_

_There was a moment of doubt, a heartbeat passing in between Matt’s words and Pidge’s reaction, but then, she lunged herself to his chest – she was so tiny he fondly thought – and then his arms embraced her._

_He had his chin over the top of her hair, where messy little strands left her pony tail. When he breathed, it came out shaken, not being able to hide the watery glint in his amber eyes. As he spoke again, his voice was faint, however confident. And fond – so gentle and fond, and caring._

_–“No matter what you do, I’ll always be proud to call you my brilliant sister.”_

_That was probably the only thing Matt had said to Pidge that day that she believed whole-heartedly._

_And then, the image, the colors all around them, grew staller than they already were. The imagine of Matt letting go of their embrace was fleeting, until there was nothing more to see but light. A pure light mixed in darkness in the edges._

_The end of the memory._

 

…

 

Settling back into the present was a slow progress.

Pidge noted she was squinting her eyes as her senses were coming to. Her mind eased as she ordered it to, and so did the muscles on her forehead, dismantling her focused frown. Bit by bit, she blinked, softly, patiently, until her eyes unraveled the outside world.

The colors were normal now, vivid yet natural, organic. After all, a memories’ color would be faded, even when such memory would be so cherished.

As a little breeze gently stroke her hair, Pidge allowed her sight to get used to the real world again. She was seated on top of a cliff, not far from the dormitories. Beyond it was the endless ocean, its horizon line meeting the baby blue early sky. On it, the sun already brightened the realm, highlighting the green of the underbrush all around her, as well as it warmed the rocks lazily spread everywhere in the terrain.

Pidge herself was sitting on top of one of the rocks closest to the ground. Cross-legged, she had the back of her hands placed on her knees, palms to the sky. In that moment, as her mind fully settled back, she released an emotional sigh.

She was no longer fifteen centuries old. She no longer had long hair, and instead had that messy haircut of hers. She wasn’t wearing a tunic, but a loose brown cloth vest over an olive shirt. Drapes of the same brown color covered the sides of her shorts, ending loosely by her knees.

Although, the biggest change from the memory – besides the setting and realm – was that Matt wasn’t there. For long.

He had promised to come back for her after every battle. Every single one. And by all means, he kept that promise. Until the day he didn’t.

Even the presence of _legends_ didn’t save her brother from the Galra battalions.

Yet, he wasn’t dead. Pidge knew he wasn’t. She could feel it. There was a strong connection between them, something that both had carefully crafted together along all of their life. There was a time Matt was everything to her. It had been him who had told her she could be anything she wanted to, and supported her through every decision of hers.

Such bond couldn’t be broken.

So, she searched and searched, using her perceptive, searching powers. Magic, one could call it, though that was what supported the power of every god in existence – and the universe itself.

Being a child of Athena meant having both the power of a glorified warrior with an intelligence and perspective of a wise grandmaster. Pidge, however, only inherited the second powers. She had despised her lack of strength as a warrior from a young age, but she could not deny how her own powers were becoming useful, now.

All-seeing knowledge. Although to get such mastery as the one Athena possessed, meant Pidge had still a long way to go. She wasn’t her mother. Not at all.

The times she heard beings questioning if she didn’t get things mixed up and was actually Hermes’ child almost _infuriated her_. And the ones when they compared her to her – _oh so great and mighty mother_ – even more.

Not that she hated her mother. By the contrary. It was simply hard to be the child of such a great entity – both in terms of power and spirit.

And having her powers not a tint as powerful as her mother’s, she had to use something to connect her back to Matt. Such thing was hard to find, as the first times she attempted to connect to his essence with her powers, she tried to use objects of his that were left at their estate.

Nothing had worked. Until she found a way to do it: something more powerful than any object could possibly be – memories. The fonder they were, the more they boosted her power. There was no deeper way for her to connect with anyone.

Yet, no matter where she searched – the Underworld, every single Egyptian realm, the Greek and even the Japanese ones – there was no scent of Matt. Perhaps it was disguised with some sort of a protection power or spell, if Pidge considered he was in the Underworld.

Again, those were all theories she had. At the end of the day, she hadn’t made much progress. She only knew she could feel his essence, and that was all.

Honestly, even though her searches normally didn’t lead her anywhere, at least it was nice she felt him there after every search. It was a little caress to her soul and heart.

However… considering if Matt was in the Underworld… maybe she’d ask Keith some questions about it.

… If she ever saw him again.

After the arena incident, that was a possibility that grew slim by the hour.

But hell, she would try to get that information out of him anyway, if that meant to get Matt back, _she’d do anything_ -

-“Pidge!”- A wheeze.

Slowly, Pidge’s eyebrows furrowed as she heard that voice calling her name, and then, equally sluggishly, she started to turn around, towards the misshapen stairway that lead to the cliff. There, she found two breathless gods.

Hunk was now laying on a little stone wall by the beginning of the stairs, his back laid right on it. As for his arms, they were fallen to both his sides, finding themselves in the mercy of gravity. So were his legs.

Closer to Pidge, to Hunk’s right considering Pidge’s view, Lance had his whole body literally plopped chest down on a large smooth rock.

Gaping a little, with a raised confused eyebrow, Pidge scooted over, turning to them. When she spoke, she did it slowly, suspiciously.

-“You guys… _okay_ …?”

Regarding her question, Hunk turned his head to his right to face her. –“ _Are YOU_?”- He wheezed again. –“How did you make it up here?!”

To his side, Lance lifted his head with a little effort, and aggressively pointed with his right arm at both Pidge and Hunk. -“I’m telling you-“- A wheeze. –“She’s got some… sort of _magic trick_ that lets her just teleport amongst the same realm!”

That insinuation actually made her let out a little breath, sounding like a chuckle. –“Nah, I used my legs.”- She paused, as her aura turned inquisitive. –“… That’d be pretty handy, though.”

-“I know, right?!”- Hunk immediately wondered, as he lifted his head. –“I could just wake up later and”-He made a gesture with his hands. –“ _poof_ , plop right in my seat in class.”

-“Or when I’m laying on the couch and can’t reach for a scroll so I’d just… teleport closer to it.”

Both Pidge and Hunk stared at their friend with pointed looks, Hunk being the one who spoke up. –“… Uhh, just move over a little bit??”

Scoffing amusedly, Pidge crossed her arms as she looked at Lance. –“Now, that’s pure laziness.”

That willed Lance to abruptly look up at them as he propped his hands on the rock. An offended look was on his face, though it was obvious he hadn’t taken the jokes to heart. –“It’s called a brilliant idea. _A LIFE HACK_!! Look it up!”

Again, that made Pidge scoff. –“Sure…”

-“Anyway,”- Started Hunk, slowly, as he propped himself to his right side on the wall. He nodded his head towards Pidge, then. –“what’re you even doing here? We looked for you _all morning_ -“

Lance cut him off as he pointed his thumb towards his best friend. –“Hunk didn’t shut up about his ‘ _leg bellies_ ’ hurting from all the stairs.”

That made Hunk gasp in an overly dramatic way. –“At least it wasn’t me complaining about how _hungry_ I was…”

-“I _was_ hungry though!”- Lance protested with a slightly defensive tone, his eyebrows raising indignantly. However, that was short-lived, as he almost instantly relaxed back on his rock, letting out a little whimper. –“Still am, t.b.h.”

-“And I said, we’ll get food when we find Pidge.” Hunk remarked. –“Which now brings me back to my main question:”- He pointed both his hands to their smaller friend. –“what’s up, Pidge?”

Lance diverted his look from Hunk to Pidge. –“Yeah, what’s going on with you? Sometimes you’re just nowhere to be found and that’s suspicious.”- He neatly folded his arms in front of himself and nestled his chin on them. –“Hunk has a theory you’re like, planning pranks to pull on people or whatever.”

At that moment, Pidge hoped the look on her face wasn’t giving away how she really did not want them to know exactly what she was doing. They just… worried too much, and sometimes that’d slow her down. And it’d also irritate her, if she was being honest.

Still – her friends didn’t need to worry about her searching for Matt. It wasn’t their business. They had other things to worry about.

-“Uhh…”- Pidge glanced to the side, all around the sky, as if it’d give her the right answer to say, but it didn’t. –“no, I mean… Yeah, no, I just…”- Nervously, she scratched the back of her head.

In the meantime, Hunk’s tone and overall aura seemed pretty casual. –“Mhmm. I better not walk into a room one day and suddenly find myself soaked in goo.”

That made a little smile-smirk appear on Pidge’s lips. –“Well- … You, y-yeah… You’ve got me,”- She nervously chuckled. –“I’m planning pranks. You better watch your backs…”

Hearing her stumble through every word made both Lance and Hunk glance at each other, as they seemed to share a telepathic conversation.

Letting out a ‘pft’ between his teeth as he looked back to Pidge, Lance squinted, suspiciously. –“ _Lies_ …”

-“Yep, I don’t actually believe you, now.”- Hunk pointed at her with an accusing finger, as the look on his dark brown eyes was equally untrusting.

For a heartbeat, Pidge stared at them, waiting for her mind to react, for it to find an excuse. Although, time ran short, and she knew she’d been made. There was nothing she could hide from them. So, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting out a loud, defeated breathed groan.

-“Fine…”- As Pidge admitted it, her voice was strained, unpleased. Sort of grumpy. –“Look, guys, it’s just…”- She fidgeted with her hands, as she looked away, to the side. –“It’s about Matt, _okay_?”

The confession immediately changed to expressions on her friend’s faces, as once before they were suspicious, and now, understanding, gloomy, sympathetic. Both her friends shared another look, and when they glanced back at her, Lance’s voice was low, tender, cautious.

-“… You’re still trying to… find him…?”

Shutting her eyes closed as a sour feeling seemed to appear in her mouth, Pidge couldn’t help it but to allow her mind to dwell on those words. And the other memories they brought to her.

More precisely, of the time Pidge had told Hunk and Lance about Matt, and about her searches for him. Before that moment, she would be relentless, driving herself to the point of exhaustion during every single search session. She didn’t have it in her to stop – when the wiser part of her mind willed her to, she ignored it, pushing herself farther than she should.

The day her friends found her running out of energy, almost fainting in their arms, all of that changed.

When she was feeling better and was able to speak again, both her friends had – _tried to have_ – a conversation with her about it. She explained to them what she was doing, and why so. Both Lance and Hunk proceeded to tell her she couldn’t be doing this, not the way she was. She was simply, slowly destroying herself.

They told her, reluctantly, that Matt… was probably not coming back.

Out of spite, Pidge did not speak to them for days.

Until the day she listened to their concerns. Of how they were her friends, and were concerned about her health – both mental and physical. She couldn’t just push through her limits almost every day.

Allura had interfered on the matter as well, and helped Pidge see the side of her friend’s story: Their feelings - many of which Allura shared with them. So, that day, Pidge promised to not do extensive searches like those again.

At some point, she made it seem like she had stopped searching all-together. Just to not worry her friends.

Until now, that is.

-“Pidge…”

Hearing Hunk’s slow, cautious voice, Pidge willed herself to open her eyes and sternly look straight at them. –“I do it _once_ every ten days! And if you’re gonna ask, my energy’s fine.”- She jabbed at her chest. –“ _I’m fine._ It’s just something I need to do for myself from time to time…”- Gravely, she furrowed her eyebrows. –“I know you won’t understand-“

At this point, Hunk was seating on the small wall, turned to her. Hurriedly, he shook his palms towards her. –“No, no, _we do_. Pidge, we totally get it, we’ve told you this.”

-“Look…”- Started Lance, his voice in that soft, understanding tone of his. –“If that had happened to any of my close siblings I’d probably do the same. I’d never give up, either.”- A pause. –“We just told you that maybe… _maybe_ …”

Hunk picked it up after that. -“That maybe it was unrealistic to search for something, expecting that you’re going to end up finding anything. I, I’m not saying you’re not, just that-“

-“You can’t put your health in jeopardy because of it.”- Lance cared to complete, as he looked up at her with sincerity in his eyes.

In the meantime, Hunk did just the same. -“We’re your friends, Pidge. We care about you.”

Regarding her friend’s speech, Pidge was touched with their careful words. A smile started to tug at the corners of her lips – _just a little, faintly_ – as she eyed them with glinting amber eyes. –“I know, you guys.”- Her voice was low, tender. –“I seriously get it, now. But I just feel… _better_ when I do it.”

Lance’s eyes shifted from her to his side, seeming as he was pensive. In a little, he lightly nodded his head. –“Huh… it’s a coping mechanism…”

-“Yeah… sort of,”- Pidge gestured to him. –“like that.”

Yet again, Lance peered at Hunk, both sharing a silent conversation.

As he sighed, Hunk’s shoulders seemed to slump. -“Well, as long as you’re not hurting yourself, I _guess_ there’s nothing wrong with that.”

This approval from her friends – even Hunk’s, who was very mistrusting of various situations – made Pidge smile. She really did have the god’s luck behind her when she met them. –“Thanks for understanding.”

Lance lifted his head up, eyes closed, a playful tone on his face. -“No problemo, gremlin shnemling.”

That made Pidge amusedly scoff, as she felt the tension between them drain, until there was none. –“Whatever. Why were you guys looking for me, anyway?”

-“Oh,”- Hunk’s expression shifted to something closed-off, a little frown it seemed to Pidge’s eyes. He rubbed the back of his head, an indication of how he might be feeling something shifty – some sort of personal dilemma. –“ _well_... We were hoping you knew what happened to Keith…”

-“You know, like two seconds after he literally killed another god and the guards magically showed up to escort him outta there…”- Lance exhaled heavily from his mouth, as a sharp frown appeared on his features. –“Ugh, I _knew_ we shouldn’t have trusted him. He was _bad news_.”

Hunk lifted his head, then, looking at Lance with a serious tone. –“Hey, we did all we could to help him,”- A shrug. –“he just didn’t up take the offer.”

Hearing the start of this ridiculous debate amongst her friends, Pidge groaned. –“Oh, _come on_ , who cares about Vali! The dude was literally _worse than Hades_. It was about time karma finally showed up for him.”

-“I wouldn’t say Hades was _that bad_ …”- Mused Lance, before a smirk appeared on his face. –“But you’re right about one thing: Vali lives aren’t… _valid_.”- Hunk let out a little ‘ _hah_ ’ in the background.

However, Pidge was not as amused as Hunk was, as she groaned tiredly. -“You’re never gonna stop milking that one…”- Her eyes went wide as her mind reminded her that Lance was probably about to make a joke about his newest friend/pet cow, so, really quickly, Pidge pointed at him. –“ _Don’t you even dare you literal demon_!”

The only response she got from her friend was a huge smug grin, as he wiggled his eyebrows.

-“Uhh, pet cow jokes aside,”- Hunk began, his voice bringing order back to this chaotic conversation. –“even though the dude was a jerk it was _still_ murder.”- Stopping himself from going there again, Hunk sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. –“Okay, but, we’re not gonna argue about morals and all that stuff now.”- He shook his head before glancing at his little friend. –“Pidge, do you know anything?”

Looking at him, Lance nodded, before peering back to Pidge. -“We were kinda hoping you used your _~all-knowing~_ powers to find out what happened?”

Regarding those requests, Pidge paused for a little, as a serious mood took over her aura. When she spoke, her voice was soft again.

-“I tried to sense something, but nothing came up. I could try to use my powers to, well, ‘ _hack_ ’ into Allura’s mind, or even Keith’s, but I don’t really like to do that, you know,”- She wiggled her hands. –“without consent… Because then it’d be kinda fuzzy and make me feel dizzy.”- A pause. –“Besides it’s… you know... _creepy_...”

Exhaling dramatically from his mouth, Lance let himself fall flat back onto the rock. –“Aww, man…”

Hunk shrugged. –“Welp, guess we’ll find out when the other students do.”

-“Sorry, guys... I tried.”

That made Lance wave a hand dismissively at her lament. –“Nah, it’s okay, Pidge. We know.”

After his voice travelled the air between them, their conversation fell short. In silence they remained for a while, all three of them showing signs that they really didn’t know what to do, or say, shifting nervously, exchanging timid glances.

This situation – both Keith’s and Pidge’s – was something these gods usually weren’t used to deal with. Especially Hunk and Lance. They were guarded since they were little kids, protected from the war and the atrocities it brought upon them and their loved ones. Pidge had had her fair taste of what that pain would feel like when her mother was slain in battle, as well as when her brother went missing.

Still, even after that, she had been guarded from what was going on outside this realm, too. And even though they were in training to be decent gods, as well as probably to fight in a war they didn’t call for, they were still pretty green in that department.

So, now, confronted with this reality, they didn’t really know what to make of it. Or how to speak of it. Sure, they weren’t lied to nor had any information hidden from them, but experiencing one thing was different from just hearing about it. And what to do when confronted with something they knew so little?

Apparently, right now, it seemed like silence was the answer to that question.

Soon that changed, however, as time slowly passed. The morning went on as they were stopped by, not too much since they last spoke, just some minutes.

The sun was a warm caress on their skin, as the gentle breeze that stroke their hair lighted its effect. The colors all around them kept the atmosphere’s mood from shifting into something grim, reminding them of the blinding positive aura of this realm.

Perhaps they hadn’t noticed it changing, or it had been simply sudden, but the atmosphere lighted soon enough. The little tension that was left between them eased, until no drop of it was left to be felt.

Now, Hunk was laying on the wall again, his back on it, his belly to the sun. He had his hands united on top of his belly, slowly rising and falling with his breathing. He looked peaceful, and as he glanced around with a set of curious brown eyes – looking livelier with the sun’s rays reflecting on them – he observed his friends.

They seemed to be in a peaceful state, just like his own. They seemed more relaxed. And feeling the change, Hunk couldn’t help it but to allow his talkative mind to speak up. A way to start the conversation anew, with a lighter topic.

-“… What about your sword-bow, though?”

A little startled, Lance lifted, just slightly, the right side of his body, propping it on his forearm, as he glanced at his best friend. At first, he had a careful quirk on his eyebrow, but soon it eased into something casual.

-“Hmm?”- A pause. –“Oh, I… I don’t know… Look at this.”

Rustling, he shifted his position to a sitting one, having his legs gently crossed, his armored skirt sitting stiff on his lap. Today he had most of his armor on, from the exception of his helmet and breastplate, showing his bright blue tunic on his torso. Unlike Hunk who had only a long faded-out yellow tarp vest, ending by his knees, over his usual white tunic, Lance felt like he would feel better with most of his armor on. He’d feel more protected.

Which was fair, considering the turns of evens from the day before.

Now, he held his forearms out, palms facing he sky as his fingers curled, only slightly.

With a little deep exhale from his nose, and a little focus, he started to feel his hands turning cold, as his frost started to materialize on them. Soon enough, that same smooth cold feeling was back on his hands, as the sword rested on them.

When the usual frost cloud started to dissipate away and unraveled his new weapon, it was hard to miss the frown that showed up on his features.

-“It’s been like this every time I summon it.”- Lance groaned, throwing his head back. –“Like, okay, thanks, I appreciated the sword which was _really convenient_ when it just, magically showed up, but I’d like to maybe have my bow back…?”- The sound he let out now was a little whimper, almost pathetic if he was going to be honest, as he lowered his head. –“I’m just not good at wielding swords…”

In front of him, his smaller friend was sitting with her legs crossed as well, her tiny hands atop of her sandals. -“You could…”- Pidge started, softly and slowly, as if it were obvious. –“practice…?”

-“That’d take _ages_ and I need to fight with something that I know I’m good at until then.”- With a pout, Lance paused as he propped his right elbow on his thigh and placed his head on his palm. –“If I’d even get good at sword fighting...”- That last part was only a mumble.

It wasn’t like Lance was oblivious about himself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t self-aware. When he raveled in compliments and cheering, he knew a little stupid part of himself felt as though he was the best in the world – at whatever he was being applauded for. He would say many times he was pretty great, and that part of himself believed in it whole-heartedly.

Although there was another part of his mind – one that was _so self-aware_ – that dragged him down. It was like this part was there to balance out the other, confident part – perhaps stopping it from staining his soul with arrogance.

Lance felt kind of grateful for that when he thought about it, though he knew that wasn’t exactly a good thing, especially when that part of his mind was _so loud_ , yet he kept it so silent. So tucked away from reality, many would just take him as shallow and go with that.

Until these quick moments happened, when he let it slip. To be fair, he only did that with the ones he trusted most, the ones he knew were familiar with his heart. Vulnerability, after all, was something quite scary, even to one of the most social beings in the world. An odd fact, he thought.

Still – fighting, especially close ranged… It wasn’t his greatest quality. He was a great shot, no doubt in that, but only when he was out of sight, getting cover from behind something. When situations like duels came along, he was always scrambling to survive for as long as he could – it would be really embarrassing to be out of the arena so quickly.

And for the longest time, he didn’t feel so bad about it. There were amazing fighters like the fallen Viking, and then he was more of a hunter, lurking in the shadows, using stealth as an ally to get the right angle to shoot.

Then, this sword fell on his hands. And what was he supposed to do with a sword? Throw it? And then be weaponless?

Last night he couldn’t sleep which, granted, it wasn’t really a big thing for a god, especially one with a good chunk of energy left in him. However, when silence was the only thing around, as the subtle sounds of the night were the only thing distracting his mind – and doing poorly at it – he was left with his thoughts.

That night in specific, the topic was one that stirred up his insides – in an unpleasant way.

The Underworld god’s image would never leave his mind, not even when he opened his eyes and tried to focus on something around his room. His moves were almost flawless – the way he picked himself up after being thrown at the floor by simply doing a _flip_.

Even before the lightshow that his – honestly, not so expected - fire power was, he was the center of the crowd’s attention. The way he wielded his own sword showed the level of mastery he had under his belt. Surely, Lance thought, it really shouldn’t be a thing to be envious of. Keith had been a child soldier, he had probably suffered a lot in trade of the skill he possessed today.

Mostly, Lance even felt bad for feeling like that towards him. Jealous of a skill that had brought – probably – so much pain to the other god’s life. Yet, there was a slimy part in Lance’s mind that made him feel so, so _jealous_ of it.

Of how much of a great fighter Keith was compared to him. Keith was exactly the god Poseidon expected Lance to be, so he could earn the old god’s respect.

And Lance kept cringing when he thought about it. Because he felt so gross just to think he was feeling jealous towards an abused child. Then again, Lance knew he wasn’t pure. Nobody was, even the greatest person alive. That still didn’t stop him from feeling so bad.

Because he envied Keith _so much_. Yet he felt _so bad_ for doing so. And all of that appeared in just _one night_. One cursed night after an even more cursed duel.

-“Buddy… You okay…?”

Hunk’s concerned voice startled Lance out of his thoughts, and for once, he was glad it did so.

-“Yeah, I was just… thinking…”

A little suspicious frown took over Hunk’s face. –“Thinking...?”

-“Y-Yeah.”- Lance brought his left fist to his face as he cleared his throat. At that moment, he thought he should probably act normal, not wanting his friends to know about this awful jealousy case of his. Instead, he changed the subject in the most casual way he could. –“Did your dad even know it could do this?”

Facing with his friend’s question, Hunk glanced at Lance’s sword and his frown eased, as he lifted his eyebrows. –“Hmm… Dad has explained that he just, forges the weapons.”- He heavily let his head fall on the wall again, eying the sky. –“It’s the forging methods and the combination of the magical materials that give special quirks to each weapon.”- A pause followed by a sigh. –“I don’t know, though… Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The outcome or side effects are unexpectable.”

In response, Lance simply let out what sounded like a mix of a groan and a sigh.

With a concerned furrow on his eyebrows, Hunk peered at his best friend again. –“Sorry, buddy, it’s all I know.”

-“It’s fine.”- Lance muttered into his hand.

Looking between the two, Pidge hesitated to speak up, just for a little. –“… Welp, it’s almost midday. I know there’s no classes today because of yesterday’s _incident_ but…”- She shifted her position. –“Maybe we should go to the cafeteria. Someone’s probably gonna announce what’s gonna happen now. Maybe Allura, and then we can ask her more questions if we get the chance.”

Getting up from his laying position, Hunk peered at her with a big warm smile – mimicking perfectly the aura of the sun shining down on them. –“Sounds great! You up for it, Lance?”

Glancing at his friend, Lance couldn’t help but to have his mood brightened by such contagious smile. –“Yeah…”- His soft response was enough to ease the mood he was feeling, as he got himself up and tapped his armored skirt. –“And… that actually gave me an idea…”

 

 

…

 

 

The afternoon had well settled by the time Allura had a moment of peace.

At the moment, she was at her usual place – during he day, that is. The oracle, as it was called, embraced by the vast lush greenery of the gardens that spread around it, from almost every direction but to Allura’s right. To that side, beyond the adorned marble railings, was a large cliff, giving way, down below, the endless ocean.

As usual, Allura was seated by her desk, her posture tense yet somehow still elegant, as she flipped some papers over with a hand, keeping the other holding the side of her tilted head.

She had been tempted that morning, as she looked at the armor stand by her bed, to put hers on, just for today, at least only during the meeting with Odin. Yet, she didn’t place it on, and now she was sure it was too late. The faded pastel pink draped dress she had on had to do. It was still elegant, and besides, Allura felt more comfortable wearing it rather than a heavy set of armor.

Not that she didn’t like to wear it, but the memories that came once she felt that weight on – of councils of war or actual battles – weren’t the most pleasant. The dress was not only physically lighter, but emotionally, too.

Sighing, Allura made a gesture with her left hand, the one previously flipping the papers, and magically, in the air, a quill wrote what her mind willed it to. Another business of war, a signed letter to confirm the movement of troops.

Honestly, she knew she was raised to do this – to be a leader, but sometimes, it just felt so draining. There was always something she wasn’t expecting and had to deal with it with the calmest state she could muster. As it had been yesterday, with the Underworld god. As it had been the day the Underworld diplomats came to negotiate this truce.

Memories of her previous appearance at lunch, on the main campus, flared through her mind. That had been the easiest part of today, she thought, as their students were always so understanding, and the staff did everything they could to help her out. They knew how exhausting it would be to be the Queen of the Olympus and all the realms related to it, as well as being the one running an academy with the Overworld’s future.

Coran mostly took care of the academy’s affairs, in fact, but this time, as it concerned the Underworld, she insisted to take care of it herself. Besides, she knew with that Odin, Coran would not really stand his ground, as much as he tried, the old god was tricky.

In fact, that was what was eating at her. The arrival of Odin, that would happen in just a few hours, as the sun set.

Groaning, Allura closed her eyes, driving the quill on her hand to rest in its crystal ink container. She lowered her head, eyes closed, as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

What would she say to him? That the Galra diplomat - no, _soldier_ \- that Odin was so against welcoming _killed_ one of his sons? How would the old, cruel god react to it, other than violently? He would surely demand the demon’s head.

And Allura had to avoid that. For the sake of democracy. Because she no longer could stand by, commanding armies upon armies and see so many casualties happening right in front of her eyes.

But she would do it with bitterness. Surely this was poetic justice - or, really, _injustice_ \- that she had pledged to end the Galra empire herself, _swore_ to end any Galra her eyes would lay on, and now, now she was defending _one of them_. Not even because she liked him as a person or they were friends, or that she even saw anything good in him besides pitying him.

_No_ , it was just so the Underworld wouldn’t send an all-out attack to the Greek Overworld.

It was safe to say, in short, that she had a long afternoon ahead. At least she was glad Shiro volunteered to help, because the other old gods she tried to contact did not really take her up on that offer…

Two hollow sounds interrupted her thoughts, sounding like two knocks on stone. When she looked up, quirking an eyebrow, she saw a timid figure standing by the entrance to the oracle, in between its large columns, hand still resting by one of them.

-“Uhm, hey, Allura… Knock-knock, haha…”

Seeing Lance stand there out of nowhere made her furrow her eyebrows, questioning why the god had appeared so suddenly. He had a shy smile on his face, a clear give away that he was embarrassed to be bothering. Or… something else – which, granted, Allura hoped it wasn’t the case. The least she needed right now was enduring his antics.

-“Lance…?”- She slowly began, adjusting her posture, leaning forward as she united her hands on top of the desk. –“What are you doing here?”

His eyes went wide faced with the question, and he seemed to fidget, nervous with the question it appeared, before he spoke. –“Oh, well,”- He rubbed the back of his neck. –“I asked Coran if I could see you, because, like, I kind of need your help on something.”- He smiled sheepishly as he pointed his hand at her. –“I figured if someone could help me, it’d be you.”

Allura’s eyes shifted to the side as her eyebrows creased, before she willed her gaze to fall back on him. –“… Sure, what is it that you need help with?”

That question, being the acceptance of Lance’s call for help, made him visually seem less on edge. He unconsciously stepped into the room, standing in the middle of its circular shape.

-“So, uhm,”- He scratched his head before he crossed his arms. –“yesterday in fighting class I was fighting Vali-“

Enlightenment flashed through Allura’s eyes. -“Oh, I’ve heard. The sword.”- She gestured towards him. –“Your teacher came to talk to me about it. I was actually intending to talk to you about this new development, but I suppose that with this…”- She looked to the side, frowning gravely. –“ _new issue…_ I just, forgot to address it.”

Faced with that response, Lance let out a little breathed laugh, as he shrugged. –“It’s fine… But, can you help me now?”

Exhaling heavily with a little smile on her lips, Allura placed her hands on her desk and pushed herself up. –“Of course, why not.”

Beaming, Lance walked more into the room, as the Queen of the Olympus came to a stand in front of him, her mighty figure irradiating much more power than his ever did. It was amazingly impressive, Lance noted, how a god of a younger generation still was able to have such powerful aura, one that could compete with and even outmatch some of the older gods.

She was their queen for a reason, after all.

-“Alright,”- She gestured to him with her hand. –“show me your weapon.”

And so, he did. With his eyes closed, the same ritual of him invoking his weapon happened, and yet another cloud of frost revealed a shiny polished ice sword. However, he didn’t seem pleased with his work. In fact, Lance sighed at the sight of such weapon, his shoulders slumping as he held it delicately, as if he was afraid to damage something that didn’t belong to him.

-“Was hoping for the bow to show up …”- He mumbled.

Contrasting his heavy voice, Allura’s was light, with wonder, as it mirrored on the tone of her expression. –“Fascinating.”- She breathed.

Next, she made a gesture with her hand, asking for permission to hold the weapon, and without any question, Lance carefully set it on her hands. Gently, her fingertips threaded the sword’s freezing cold blade, as her light blue eyes watched the spots of the sword that once in contact with her fingers, faintly glowed a light blue tone, almost alike the one of her own eyes.

Lance didn’t question why that happened, knowing that he probably couldn’t get his weapon to do that because he was way less powerful than she was.

-“You want it to turn back?”- She ended up asking as she raised her gaze to meet his eyes.

Faced with the question, he put both his palms together and gestured, with them, forward, towards the sword on the goddess’ hands. –“That’d be what I want, yes.”

-“I see. But you’ve got to do it yourself.”

Swiftly, Allura extended the sword towards him, making Lance take it by its handle with one hand, and the other on the blade. He seemed to be holding it carefully yet again, as if it were a baby on his lap, or something even more fragile, even though, in this case, it was quite the opposite.

Again, the look on his face went grave, as he eyed the weapon, shifting it on his hand, before he winced, shutting his eyes with a sudden anger. –“Ugh, but I don’t know how!”- A glare alike the one he was sending at the blade could melt it if it were not a godly weapon. –“I’ve tried everything but all I see is this stupid sword _every single time_ …”

In contrast with his hurried words, Allura’s were calm, as well as wise. –“As you know, many weapons Hephaestus creates are able to shapeshift.”- She united her hands in front of herself, leaning them towards the weapon as she explained. –“My take on it is that it felt as though you were in need of an upgrade, or it simply upgraded itself as it sensed your distress. And since it was a premature upgrade, now it cannot go back.”

That made Lance’s apparent ire drain from his features, and his whole body, making him seem smaller than usual. He looked down at the blade, still with his eyebrows furrowed, but no more fury left in them. –“What do I do?”

-“I’m going to help you and walk you through it. First, I need you to stand tall, and close your eyes.”

-“W- okay…”

At first, alike in his confused tone of voice, Lance seemed lost with the sudden action, but he did as he was told. Even though there was a strange look on his face, probably trying to figure out what was going to happen, that soon changed, when a little smirk started to tug at the corners of his lips.

-“… Is this gonna turn into _something more_ ~-“

Immediately, Allura cut off his lovey-dovey voice with a stern, seemingly annoyed, tone of voice. -“ _Don’t you dare finishing that sentence_.”- She sighed tiredly. –“Now, I need you to focus your energy, _your quintessence_ , on your weapon.”

And just like that, his previous tone was gone, replaced with the same old one he used. A laid-back one, if not a little playful. –“Yep, I can do that, focus my quinte-what on my sword-“

-“Quintessence.”- The queen regally corrected. –“Your quintessential essence, the purest form of your essence. As your power, your energy grows, so does your quintessence. With that, gods can unlock new powers, and learn to control them. Your weapon upgrade should be controlled when you focus a higher amount of your quintessence in it. I suppose what happened was that you managed, in a moment of panic, to focus a little more of it into your weapon, and, alas, the sword appeared.”

In response, Lance simply hummed, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that seemed to be focused. And thoughtful. Which, Allura noted, was better than when they were flirtatiously quirked.

With that, she also stood tall, ready to commence the transformation. With a strong stance, she extended her forearms forward, towards the weapon, and held her open palms towards it. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and lifted her chin.

Something in the atmosphere around them shifted. It was invisible, but to them, especially Lance, there was this static feeling keeping his hairs standing on end. It was an energy immerging from the goddess in front of him, something that was overcoming his own energy, assorting its greater power. What he was feeling, right then, was just a signature of the might of the Queen’s essence, which was fitting to her godly title, of not only being known as the Queen of the Olympus, but also as Goddess of Might and Power.

-“Now,”- Allura’s voice was calm, almost as a relaxing sound at this point. –“keep your mind steady and focused. Do not let anything distract you and follow every instruction I give you.”

After a pause, she spoke again. -“I’m going to help you change the form of your weapon back to your bow. I need your mind to picture it, and only it. Meanwhile, since I’m sure you cannot recreate that spike of quintessence you did that activated the sword, I will use mine to help you change it back. You simply need to focus on your bow.”

Twisting his face in a show of concentration, Lance nodded, not really sure if it had been seen by her or not. Though, he also did not respond verbally. He knew he didn’t need to, as he already started to feel that static energy around him interfering with his own. He felt his energy move accordingly to what the other, powerful and foreign energy willed it to, never really entering in contact with the other.

It felt overwhelming for a little, as he almost felt like he might faint, not really standing the other mighty power so well. Yet, he persisted, having only the image of his bow on his mind, just like the Queen had urged him to do.

In only a matter of seconds, he felt change in his hands. The freezing cold of the sword stopped itching, as it seemed to soften, and soften, until it was more bearable. Its smooth surface was enveloped in frost almost immediately, Lance being able to hear it crunch against the blade.

Then, he felt it. The comfortable feeling of the first snowflake falling on his hand, rough yet agile. It felt like _his bow_.

_It was his bow._

-“It is done.”

Allura’s voice was nothing but gentle, carefully uttered so that it wouldn’t startle him. As she spoke, Lance could feel the grasp of her energy leaving him, no longer molding his to do what was necessary. Lance felt himself relax, taking his time to open his eyes.

When he did, he saw it. His bow, right there in his hands. A little stinging crept on the corners of his eyes, which he blinked away. He wasn’t gonna cry now, not in front of the Queen.

Instead, he felt the corners of his lips curl, until a blinding, bewildered smile was on his face. After a second, he started chuckling, softly, unbelievably so, as he ran one of his frosty hands through his messy short hair, leaving a trail of frost where it touched.

-“It worked!!”- He uttered, in between laugh. –“It’s back! My bow’s back!!”- He turned his blinding smile to the Queen, his eyes sparkling alike the ocean’s water when the sun cast its rays on top of it. –“Allura, I could literally kiss you-“

Those words, however, uttered in such an unthinkable way, made Allura frown, as she crossed her arms. With an eyebrow lifted, she spoke, in one of the driest tones she could muster.

-“Let’s _not_.”

Such answer willed Lance to pause for a second, freezing mid-laugh, before his eyes blew wide, as the meaning of his words had just settled into his mind. Then, as if he was swiping the dust under the rug, he nervously chuckled, rubbing he back of his head as he did so.

Gods, he was such a pushover sometimes.

It had been since he started to attend this academy, as a teen, that he had gained this little superficial crush for the goddess. There was always something about her that captivated him, however, he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one to feel so. Her beauty had been the thing luring him in, and then it was something else.

Lance didn’t really know what, but seeing such being in front of him, so regal and just, and right, it made him want to be better. A better person. He wasn’t sure why, perhaps to gain her attention, perhaps for other reasons.

Although, he wasn’t dumb. He knew very well this wasn’t going anywhere. He saw the way she had responded to him – _always had_ – when he made these sorts of romantic investments towards her affection. And that wasn’t even the only reason.

Deep down, Lance knew very well they were not equals. She was the Queen of the Greek Overworld, and he was a forgettable son of Poseidon. She was the sign of strength and hope, and he was just… He didn’t really want to finish that thought. Not to consider how she was a literal leader and he was simply a student.

Hades, how he knew he didn’t have a chance.

So why did he even do this? Why was he persisting on something that clearly wouldn’t work out? Had he even _considered_ her own feelings? Looking at her, all he saw was discomfort.

Gods, sometimes he was ridiculously inconsiderate, Lance bitterly thought.

-“… Sorry,”- He sheepishly began, his eyes briefly on the Queen’s eyes before he cast them low, out of shame. –“I just… got excited.”

And there it was. Every time he allowed the atmosphere between them to shift into something natural rather than his forced advances, the mood between them always lighted. It was something that felt cozy and nostalgic. A friendly vibe, comforting.

Allura herself let her crossed arms fall, a smile now subtle on her face. –“Apologies accepted.”

Still ashamed, Lance looked up at her with an understanding tone, before he shyly diverted his eyes away, feeling a little blush creeping on his face, again, out of embarrassment. In the meantime, he saw the Queen walk away from their spot in the middle of the room, and began to make her way back to her desk. Taking a seat on her chair, she cast her gaze down to the papers spread around the glossy white material.

With furrowed eyebrows, Lance willed his gaze to fall fully on his bow. A small smile, looking as it came from relief, crept onto his lips, the positive energy washing over his aura. The important thing, in the end of the day, was that his bow was back.

_He_ was back in action.

A part of his mind mused how he no longer had that burden of a _sword_ in his hands, reminding him of how much of an incompetent fighter he was. Roaming in the depts of his being – where he hid them well – and throwing back at his face these inferiority complexes of his, which came from a time he still cared about what his father thought.

Well… from a time he cared _more_ about what Poseidon thought. The fact that he still cared created a heavy feeling on his chest, one he pushed away, ignored.

And with that, without his sword, he also felt a slimy tint of jealousy he was feeling earlier disappear. That made him feel better, too. He didn’t want to be envious of a soldier who paid the price for his skills.

In that regard – towards _Keith_ – part of Lance knew he was being unfair to the guy. Yet again, he was Galra. He was from the Underworld and showed how he could not be trusted, nor Lance wished to take him on the battlefield should things go south. Besides, his short temper and moody attitude… It just didn’t go well with Lance.

If there was something more to the guy other than murder and angst, then he surely had a lot to prove.

-“Is there… something else?”

Feeling his eyebrows lifting with surprise, Lance looked up at Allura, noticing how he had, once again, found himself getting lost in thought.

_Probably should have had some sleep after all_ , he thought.

Lightly, he squeezed his bow in the grip of his hands before it dismantled into layers of frost, falling down his hands into the floor by his feet. He wiped the rest on his armored skirt, knowing that the warm weather would probably take care of the rest.

-“Actually… yeah…”- He held two of his fingers up as he walked up to the desk. –“two things…”

Seating, with her united hands laying on top of many papers, Allura observed him with an open expression. –“Well, what is it?”

Now standing some steps before the desk, Lance felt, once again, nervous. He wasn’t even sure why he should be, this shouldn’t matter, this shouldn’t make him feel like this. And yet… it did. –“ _Well_ …”- He winced at his high-pitched voice, uneasily bringing a hand to scratch the back of his head. –“I heard my…”- He cleared his throat. –“my _dad_ was here…”

The expression on Allura’s face fell just as she understood what he was about to ask. Before he made an effort to do so, Allura decided to cut him some slack, and answer what she knew he wanted to know.

-“I’m sorry, Lance.”- No matter how soft she willed her voice to be, he still flinched. –“I tried to get him to stay a bit longer, but you know how Poseidon is. After the meeting with the Underworld’s god he immediately left, saying the oceans require high maintenance.”

That information was hard to take in, although it was no surprise to him. It sounded just like Poseidon to _not care_. He never cared. A bitter part of Lance’s mind despised him for that. He felt wrong for feeling that, like he shouldn’t feel that kind of resentment towards his _father_.

Then again, why would he be in the wrong to feel that way towards someone who should have been there for him but never truly was? Nor appreciated him. Sometimes, Lance even wondered if all these issues he had on his mind came from this sort of neglect. Bitterly, he knew, deep down, that they did.

_Then why did he care…?_

Sighing, lowering his head, his whole body looking defeated, Lance nodded, accepting it just as something expectable. –“Of course…”

On the other side of the desk, Allura’s expression shifted to something sympathetic. –“Next time he’s here, he’ll see you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Perhaps it had been the decidedness of her tone on her last sentence, spoken as a promise, that made Lance smile. It was a small and sad one at that, but it was something. Truthfully, Lance didn’t even know what he’d say to his father that day, but it didn’t matter. He’d think of something, being it a bitter rant or one full of impressive accomplishments.

-“Also…”- He began again, after some seconds of silence, and this time, there was something else to his voice. Something alike a mix of both anxiety and embarrassment. –“The second thing…”

With an arching brow, Allura observed him stumble over his own words. It was actually proving to be quite painful to just see him visually cringe so much.

-“Uhm, so… So, my friends and I, uhm,”- He rubbed the back of his head, his gaze to the side. –“we kinda… We uhh, we hung out with the Underworld’s guy, uhh, yesterday… And, uhh…”

Seeing him trailing off, obviously not knowing what to say, Allura exhaled softly from her nose, sounding like a sigh. –“I’m aware.”- The smile on her voice made Lance suspiciously raise an eyebrow, which was amusing, to be honest. –“He spoke of you-“

Immediately, his loud inquiring voice – filled with a little bit of panic – interrupted Allura’s.

-“ _WHAT??”-_ He practically had both his arms stretched to his sides, the sides of his eyebrows sharply raised. –“What did _he_ say?!”- With a grunt, he crossed his arms, burying his neck between his shoulders, looking like a child throwing a tantrum. –“Oh, I _bet_ it’s nothing good. He literally sees _nothing_ _good_ about _anything or anybody_ -!“

-“Well,”- Allura interrupted his mumbling this time, as she adjusted herself closer to the desk, resting her chin on top of her united hands. There was an amused look in her eyes and that smile was still on her voice. –“It was quite brief. He only mentioned how his confrontation with Vali went, mentioned your duel with him. He said something about Vali coming up to ‘us’ so I assumed it was your group, since he knew your name.”

He regarded the Queen with narrowed eyes as she spoke, letting his shoulders relax just a little. When she finished, Lance slowly peered to the side, the crease of his eyebrows giving away his pensive state.

-“Oh…”- Slowly, he said. –“Okay…”

-“… If you are worried about his well-being-“

_-“Not worried_!”- Lance immediately uttered, sending a little glare to Allura, one that was met with a sly ghost of a smirk. Grunting, he diverted his gaze, as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. –“Pidge n’ Hunk jus’ wanna know what happened to him.”- He paused, feeling himself relax. –“I… guess I’m just kinda curious, too. Like, is he gonna come back to class after what he’s done…?”

In that moment, he noticed the way Allura’s look turned to something grim. There was no more any tint of amusement, only of resentment. –“To be fairly honest, I would rather send him to oblivion…”- Noting how she had spat out the last worth with such bite, Allura sighed, willing her mind to remain calm. –“… But the Underworld would _unforgivingly_ rage war against us if we did so. He’s their pawn, after all.”

That captured Lance’s interest, as he carefully regarded her. –“ _Their pawn…??”_

Allura’s frown lessened, being replaced by a melancholic tone of acceptance – for the reality of the situation. She passed her hand over her head, feeling beneath her fingers her curly hair pushed back.

–“Something I’ve figured out. In short, if he came here to be a diplomat yet so _unprepared_ for the job, there’s something more to him. My guess is that Zarkon is using him, an expendable soldier, to stop the war while they recover…”- She frowned, looking down at her hands. –“… or prepare something greater.”

By the gods… Hunk really was right. He had stated how he found this truce so fishy, of how obviously the Under-Lord was planning something else. Allura being almost sure of it just clarified how his friend’s concerns were probably true.

-“Makes sense…”- He faintly remarked. –“You… think he knows…?”

Why did Lance feel a sinking feeling, alike an anchor settling in his stomach, just with the thought that maybe Keith was aware of his role in all this?

-“I’m not sure…”- Allura admitted, her voice mimicking his. –“it’s hard to read him. I cannot trust myself in the judgement of a Galra either way. I’ll always find them guilty, regardless.”

Lance hummed, regarding those statements. –“So…”- He quirked up an eyebrow. –“he’s staying…?”

-“We do not have much of a choice.”- He couldn’t read the expression Allura hand on her face. It was neutral, guarded, almost stoic. –“Being his intentions good or not, we would still get attacked without him here.”- Sighing, she tilted her head to her right, calmly rubbing her forehead with her fingers. –“As you know Odin isn’t happy about it, though. I, myself don’t really know what to do with Keith’s case, and Odin will surely make my job harder.”

Silence.

-“I… I don’t know what to say, I mean…”

Watching him fidget with his hands, moving his weight from foot to foot, Allura lightly smiled up at Lance, a smile that assured him that it was okay. –“Do not concern yourself with matters of war. I’m one of the world leaders, that’s my job. Not yours. In the meantime, tell your friends to not be concerned about him.”- Her voice lighted up again, that smile back on it. –“You will most likely see Keith again.”

Suddenly, Lance’s shoulders were hunched again as he crossed his arms, a childish pout on his face. –“Oh, that’s just _great news.”_

Such mumble made Allura chuckle, especially because she knew that the irony in Lance’s voice really did not sound believable.

 

 

…

 

 

By the end of the night, Allura and Shiro were so, _so tired._

The meeting with Odin went just as well as they expected – unnecessarily lasting for hours just because the older god wouldn’t just give in. Odin’s wrath had been a constant variant, no matter how many suggestions Shiro and Allura threw at him to consider as the Underworld god’s punishment.

It had been frightening, in an emotional way, to see the old god in such state. Not that he was scaring both the younger gods, as they could probably take him on in battle. It was just the fact that everything about his actions, words, emotions – everything was _so red and negative_. He wasn’t grieving his son’s death, it didn’t seem like that had been the biggest turmoil for him – or if it had been at all.

Instead, he just wanted blood. Metaphorical blood.

Miraculously, Allura and Shiro managed to come to an agreement with him after many hours that didn’t have bloodshed in it. They noted he probably gave in just because it was getting late, and his rage was dying down, being replaced by exhaustion, and lack of energy. A thing Allura and Shiro were also feeling over their shoulders and eyelids.

After the official agreement, both the gods escorted the King of the Norse realms from the oracle to the main portal area – a large circle made of a stone-metal-like material, having many designs drawn on it, which would light up once a portal was summoned.

Now, both were returning from that place, walking back through the gardens of the main palace.

The only sounds around them were freeing, willing their minds to ease. The sounds of cicadas and little frogs croaking blended in with the sound of water lazily falling, from many fountains the garden possessed. If they were paying attention, in the distance, they could even hear a fleeting sound of an owl.

Contrasting with the natural sounds, although made in an equally soft way, a long, exhausted exhale left Shiro’s nose. He felt his body rest as the air left him, even though he knew his mind wouldn’t let it go on for much longer.

-“… Could’ve gone _worse_ …”

His faint remark was answered to with the same tone coming from the Queen, however, surprisingly, her posture was still tall. –“A lot worse. I feel as though we found ourselves in Odin’s good graces.”- She glanced to her left, at the other god. –“A century of community work _is_ better than any offer Odin was… _willing_ to bring to the table.”

That made Shiro let out a little breathed laugh. –“If Keith finds out _I_ was the one who came up with the idea of a _century_ of community work for him though…”- He crossed his arms, a tint of amusement in his voice. –“I don’t think he’ll find that too amusing.”

Such tone and the little smirk on Shiro’s face made Allura laugh, a playful smile appearing on her expression as she looked at him. –“Well, then for your sake, I _almost_ wish he wouldn’t find out.”

Shiro slowed his pace, placing his hands on his waist as he closed his eyes and lifted his chin, making a silly smiley face as he spoke happily. –“Thank you.”

Although, that was short-lived when the words the Queen spoke actually processed on his mind. That was when his smile turned into a pout as he peeked to look at her – noticing the sly grin on her face. –“… Ooh... _Oh_. How very _thoughtful_ of you, _Your Highness_.”

The fake offended tone on his voice made the queen laugh a little more, as she resumed her pace. And such giggly laugh was enough to make that silly smile appear on Shiro’s face once more.

He found it quite endearing how such a regal figure such as the Queen allowed herself to have silly moments like these, where her actions reminded him or anyone else that she was still a living being, with more to her than just her title. Perhaps she had let it slip because of the tiredness he was sure both of them were feeling, as one who was tired let themselves loose more easily.

Shiro wasn’t complaining, though. He missed a little light-hearted banter that was almost non-existent in the Underworld. There, things that drew out laughs out of the gods were always something dark, mildly offensive sometimes, if Shiro were to be honest.

He really did miss the brightness of the Overworld and its people, didn’t he?

With those thoughts in mind, and a little smile on his lips, Shiro kept on walking, this time not side-by-side with the Queen, but slightly behind her. The silence stretched as they passed by crossroads adorned, in the middle, with some sort of hyper-realistic white marble statues, sometimes accompanied with water.

He felt like it was interesting, the aesthetic this realm possessed. It was obviously very inspired in the Greek ones, especially the Olympus, but the colorful paint in those realms didn’t make it to this one. Instead, the theme of this realm seemed to be light. If Shiro were to be honest, he didn’t mind its color’s simplicity, either. It was soothing to the eyes.

After some minutes of walking in a peaceful silence, Shiro felt, somehow, the atmosphere change. He sensed it before any sign of it was shown, again, thanks to his power.

When he looked forward rather than to an ornamented garden piece, he saw a large marble statue of a great figure ahead of them. The queen’s steps eased, until she came to a stop some steps away from it, head tilted upwards, admiring its empowering figure.

Shiro stopped some good steps behind her, doing the same as her, head tilting up to admire the piece of art.

The god depicted in it was tall, wearing a bulky traditional Greek armor. The helmet rested by his feet, a large stiff plume coming from left to right, almost falling to the sides. Shiro didn’t really know the color scheme of the god’s armor, but he assumed it was the same as the troops in the realm: mostly white with details in gold.

The god was holding the handle of a large sword with his left hand, its tip buried on the marble which its role was to represent the ground. With no helmet over his head, his features were clear. A slightly large beard – not as large as the old gods’ ones – fell down his cheeks. His long hair was tied into a ponytail.

Surprisingly, instead of a stern expression on his face – alike many statues depicted – this one had a neutral, almost content look. If Shiro squinted, he could notice there was a little beginning of a smile in the statue’s lips.

After observing the statue with careful eyes, he felt them slightly widen, as recognition flared through his mind. This, he figured, was the son of Zeus, former King of the Olympus, Alfor.

The queen’s father.

At that moment, he noticed the queen’s head lower, her shoulders subtly going up and then down, as she took in a deep breath.

Shiro hadn’t even noticed, but the silly smile he once wore on his face had decreased until, now, it was gone, replaced by a subtle sour twist of his lips. His furrowed eyebrows lifted slowly when his eyes saw movement, as the queen turned to him, almost reluctantly.

It was hard to read her expression, especially under the night’s dark cloak - Apollo’s job once, before his existence vanished, and the universe miraculously took upon his job to bring night and day. Perhaps the god hadn’t even been needed at all.

-“There’s…”- Hesitant, her faint voice trailed off, as she eyed him with a closed expression. She had her hands tangled together, brought down to her stomach. –“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

When he looked into her eyes, Shiro’s mind told him exactly what he needed to know, so much that he froze upon contact with her words. He didn’t really know why, as his power only gave him hints but did not explain them – about other’s emotions – but right then, there was a tone about Allura… Something serious, extremely serious and… _knowing._

Remaining silent, Shiro gave her space to proceed.

-“I figured it out yesterday,”- The queen’s tone was the same, faint, as she looked to the side, a light frown on her face. –“though I feel it should have been obvious from the start.”- A sigh escaped her, bringing down her shoulders, like if she was trying to get herself to proceed. Without giving much more room to more moments of hesitation, she spoke, in a louder tone.

-“Why did you not tell us you were Commander Shirogane?”

Faced with the question, Shiro’s dark eyes blew wide as his mouth gently gaped.

He supposed wearing his old armor would be a give-away of his identity at some point. He had asked the official who supplied it to him – Ulaz – if he had any other Overworld-y costumes, but the Galra god only shook his head, saying how this belonged to Shiro and him alone.

That, however, had been fine to Shiro at the time. He didn’t really find himself expecting to be remembered. Yet, he was.

Soon, as the meaning of the question started to gain life in his mind, the shocked tone on Shiro’s face, as he eyed the expecting Queen, lessened. He felt his head lowering alike his gaze, to the emptiness slightly to the side.

There was a distant look in his dark brown eyes which, sometimes, in such lighting, looked black. Those emotionally-loaded eyes looked as though they were hiding so much behind that dark color, so many of his traumas and pains. Sadly, to him, sometimes some looks he’d wear would give away everything his eyes hid.

-“I…”- He croaked, his voice faint, almost a whisper. He drew in a sudden breath from his mouth, willing himself to continue. –“… didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

There was a pause in the conversation as the Queen observed him going quiet. He looked defeated, to a sincere set of lively blue eyes observing him.

-“You are remembered as a _hero_.”- The Queen’s voice did not make him lift his gaze from the spot on the ground he was observing, but she knew he was listening by the way his shoulders lightly moved. –“The Commander who stood his ground against the Galra and almost brought down Zarkon himself. How did you not think it was worth mentioning?”

That final question made Shiro’s eyes lift up, only briefly, as he observed her tone. But then, he looked down, a little pathetic sigh leaving his nose. The look on his dark eyes truly was the meaning of melancholy.

 

…

 

Shiro was standing tall. Helmet under his left arm. His right hand, lifted upwards, was holding a long handle of a Nodachi – a katana almost as large as a human being. His was even slightly larger than his own height.

Standing on a large sandstone hill, before him, emerged a large city. The heart of the Egyptian realms – Osiris’s home.

There were, however, way more buildings than just the two gigantic pyramids – way larger than the ones humans had ever managed to build – and in the middle of those, even higher than their peaks, was Osiris’s palace, its sides built over them. Around it was a lively city, sporting mostly orange and yellow tones, even though there was, surprisingly, a lot of greenery as potted plants and carefully yet wildly mannered gardens.

By the streets rose many artifacts, some taking in futuristic shapes, many of the sandstone they were made of adorned with swirling designs highlighted in a bright blue glow or even orange. Most of them, alike the curving futuristic pillars accompanying the pathway to the palace, were levitating off the ground.

A gentle breeze stroke Shiro’s short, entirely black hair, as a gentle smile caressed his face. There was a glint in his not-so-dark eyes, highlighted by the sun, that gave away his youthful aura.

There was no line by the bridge of his nose scarring his face. Both his arms were still intact, having no obsidian prosthetic put together by a long glowing purple orb as his right arm. Instead, his armor covered it.

But then, there was a twitch in his eyebrows, as he carefully looked over his shoulder. After a heartbeat, he decided to turn his whole left side to what his back was once facing, and right at that moment, a serious frown took over his features.

The landscape before him, now, was not golden, lightly embraced by the baby blue sky. It was to be in any normal day, but instead, there was a large dark cloud of smoke staining the otherwise bight scenery.

The sign not only of war coming to the realm, but also of the presence of the Underworld armies.

Shifting his gaze, closer to him, he saw a large portion of another army. _The Wardens of the Sky_ , the army he brought with him from his home, to fight alongside him in this segment of the war – the Siege of the Egyptian Realms.

They were under his command, agreeing to join him not only by trusting him due to his previous feats, but also because of his inspiring words. And now, now they needed their leader, as a battle was soon commencing.

Farther to the right – Shiro’s eyes suddenly distracted – he saw another army, one slice of the Egyptian forces. A small one, as their armies were divided by various points and realms. There, he saw a figure already ahead of the troops, walking back and fourth in front of them, most likely giving them a speech.

The Egyptian Commander.

He sent a preoccupied frown towards their way, before he shifted his gaze back to his own army.

Taking a deep breath, as he lowered his head, Shiro lifted his Nodachi from the stone and walked towards his forces. As he walked, the before gentle breeze seemed to pick up, blowing through his hair, sending chills down his skin.

Though, Shiro did not look bothered by that. In fact, the wind made him bring his head up, chin lifted higher than before. The feeling of his own power – his wind – gently caressing his face was comforting. Empowering.

It was a soft reminder that his power was still there, ready to be used in battle, ready to send his opponents flying – quite literally. A proof that the sky was lending its winds once again, to help its guardian prevail against the imbalanced darkness he once promised to a higher power to fight against.

Once stopped, right in front of his battalion, who now were in formation, Shiro strongly impaled the ground with his weapon, keeping it there.

His voice was loud as he willed it to be – strong, too. So much stronger then, when he was younger, less beaten. After all, he had to be an inspiration.

-“ _Wardens of the Sky_ , our lives will be on the line, today!”- There was a fire in his eyes, an energy so static eradiating from his aura that Shiro knew his soldiers were feeling it cursing through their own bodies. –“The Underworld army has almost _double_ the forces of both the resistance armies combined. It will be a tough battle, probably one of the toughest we’ve ever been in.”

Shiro lowered his gaze, yet he still kept his eyes stuck on his army. –“Some would say this is a suicide mission. And maybe _they are right_. Knowing that, I _can’t_ force _any of you_ to fight and _die_ here, today.”- His loud tone softened, then, engaging in an understanding tone. –“There would be _no shame_ in choosing life over death. So, if you wish to leave, I _won’t_ condemn you for it.”

As their Commander took a pause, silence fell in the air between the large army and him.

Patiently, Shiro waited for someone – _anyone_ – to rise their hand and leave. He was sure to have the most open expression he could wear on his face, showing his troops how he had meant his words. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t exactly the best strategic decision he could have made, but before any battle he always reminded his troops that if someone didn’t want to fight, they didn’t have to.

Shiro would rather engage into battle with a set of determined warriors, than with an army of beings scared for their lives. He would not only know that as a unit, they’d fail more that way, but he’d also feel terrible for putting scared people through a battle they didn’t want to be in.

However, after half a minute, there was no motion before his eyes.

Noting that, Shiro went to the next stage of his speech, and this time, his voice was less of a Commander’s, sounding more like a sincere confession.

-“If there was something I’ve learned through my life – _all my achievements, all my mistakes_ – is that I _always_ wanted to be there and do the right thing. I wanted to help people in times of need. I wanted to be a _Hero_ , and along the way, from the example of _many others_ , I learned what it takes to be one.”

In that moment, Shiro raised his chin, a stern decidedness in his now steely eyes, as his voice mirrored his tone. –“ ** _Heroes aren’t born! They choose to become one in times of need!_** So, there is only _one thing_ I’ll ask you, right here, right now.”

-“ ** _Do you choose to be a hero, today?!?_** _”_

With no hesitation, his warriors grabbed their weapons, some raising them to the air, others beating them against their armor or shield, as together, as a unit, they uttered a loud battle cheer.

Taking in the positive response to his challenge, the expression Shiro wore was extremely focused. Now, he knew, they were about to go to war. All of them. And he had to guide them, he had to protect them, as the most powerful god amongst his battalion. _As their leader._

Their lives were on _his hands._

With a heavy exhale from his nose, Shiro tilted his head forward, as he gently placed his helmet over his head. The two bits of metal coming on top of his forehead to the sky, making a diamond shape while really not touching on top, perfectly framed he sun behind him.

Gripping the handle of his Nodachi, with a grunt, Shiro brought his weapon to the sky.

-“Then, Wardens of the Sky, follow me to your destiny! _For Egypt! For the Overworld! For the Skies!”_

Every and each time he shouted each sentence, the army let out their grave-sounding loud battle cheers.

With his weapon still raised, Shiro kept on walking forward, passing through a row his army left for him to walk across.

Reaching the end, Shiro lowered his weapon, seeing further to their right, the Egyptian forces getting ready, as well as, in the distance, the dark army of the Underworld seemed to be doing just the same.

It was time to fight for peace. Again.

 

Shiro was kneeling on the ground, panting, his gloved hand on the middle of his weapon as if it were a spear. His unplaced visor gave away his face, looking strained from exhaustion, salty sweat falling down his forehead, trailing down his cheeks.

These were the final moments of the battle, and Shiro’s mind eased when the images his eyes captured let it know the beings left standing were mostly Egyptian and Japanese.

However, around him, he could still see some dark silhouettes frantically moving, Underworld soldiers still giving their all.

By his feet, as well as by the entirety of the sandy battlefield, Shiro could see the sight of ashes fallen over the desert’s sand, mixing with it from time to time. Not only he saw those remains that once before were a living, breathing being, he also spotted many bodies splattered across the ground – alive, surely, or else they’d be ashes. Though, soon enough, if no care was given to them, they’d most likely wither away.

Suddenly, he heard a distant clanking of metal, as well as muffled grunts – a sign of a fight.

Glancing to his left, where his mind assured him that was where those noises where coming from, he saw an Egyptian tactical fighter going up against an Underworld soldier – struggling.

Shiro didn’t know he still had it in him to fight some more, but even before he came up with an answer, he got his knees to move. With the help of his Nodachi, Shiro got himself up, legs trembling before he managed to steady them.

With a limping yet running pace, Shiro held the middle of his katana like a spear, its tip in front of him, its handle behind his back, by his right side.

Soon enough he was met with the impact of his body ramming into the Galra soldier, as he grunted. At the same time, the large blade of his weapon impaled the side of the soldier’s torso, which willed them to let out a pained choke.

Quickly, their life was drained from their posture, their eyes, until, in only a matter of seconds, their physical body exploded in a cloud of ashes all around Shiro’s blade.

Feeling his knees betraying him, Shiro stopped himself from falling by hurriedly sticking his katana on the ground, using it again as a balance point. Right then, Shiro glanced to his left, his chest heavily heaving, as his eyes fell upon the remaining figure before him, and recognition enlightened them.

This was the Commander who was leading the Egyptian portion of the army.

-“Thank you…”

The other man’s voice was still incredibly collected and formal, even for someone who had just been in an intense battle. The beige drapes hiding his head as a hood, protecting him from the desert’s sand almost hid his face, until he was looking up at Shiro.

He could see the Commander’s eyes looking right at him, wide, silently full of adrenaline from the previous fight, as his shoulders rose up and down with his breathing. His brown skin was drenched in sweat, just alike Shiro had expected, and his slightly lighter brown hair fell to his forehead, sticking to it.

There was, however, a shift in the Commander’s look, as his eyebrows creased. He seemed irked, actually.

-“ _Although_ , I could have handled this situation.”

Faced with that, Shiro gave him a soft look. –“I’m sure you could, but I still wanted to help. As long as we all work together, we have a better chance.”

There was a pause as the Commander’s light brown eyes narrowed at him, noticing how Shiro was now scanning the battlefield beyond them. With a furrow of his eyebrows, the Commander looked forward, a cold tone in his gaze.

-“… Speak for yourself.”

Startled, Shiro glanced back at the Egyptian, noticing he wasn’t looking at him, but rather forward. Shiro followed the trail of his gaze, and now, risen high, Shiro saw just the amount of smoke that was in the air, the amount of ashes tainting the sand black. So many injured laying on the ground.

The casualties had been greater than they had anticipated.

With the same quiet tone, almost cold, the Egyptian’s voice sounded through the thick air again.

–“We swore to protect them, too.”

Shiro knew the Commander meant no harm with those words, even if they did sound like a cold slash. Yet, knowing the man, Shiro knew that the way he had said such thing hadn’t been with any intention of malice, but rather with disappointment. In himself.

A feeling Shiro’s heart was mirroring.

The hardest thing as a Commander, Shiro found, was the end of each battle. No matter the outcome, if there were casualties, it felt like a piece of Shiro’s own spirit was being ripped away from him.

And even though such things happened in war all the time, he was still not over the fact he broke his promise to a lot of people that day. Even how unrealistic that promise might have been, he never intended to break it to so many.

 

…

 

Back in the present, Shiro’s eyes were still cast low to the moody-lit marble ground.

Some little moments had passed as he reminisced in some of the memories from his brighter days, while knowing that many moments of those said idealistic days were still dark. Blinking, combating a sting he felt at the corners of his eyes, Shiro passed his left hand through his hair, knowing well that now a streak of white tainted his dark hair.

When a part of his mind was settling back into reality, he felt thankful the Queen had patiently waited for his response, giving him as much time as he needed to assort his thoughts. However, Shiro felt bad for leaving her waiting for so long. He had to speak up sooner or later.

-“It was a long time ago.”- His faint voice sounded almost like a whisper in the wind, but the Queen’s eyes still stuck to him when he spoke. –“And I don’t think what I did was… something out of the ordinary.”

He fidgeted with his hands, feeling the smooth yet sharp obsidian in some joints of his prosthetic hand. On a whim, he lifted his gaze to meet the Queen’s once again, being greeted by a compassionate look. It eased the turmoil the long tucked away memories stirred up in his mind, encouraging him to keep explaining himself.

-“I wasn’t a… a _legendary hero_ as many call me. I was just a soldier trying to do what was right for his people, and for the world.”

Some heartbeats passed by both before he heard the Queen’s voice again, a tender tone that soothed his mind’s on-edge state. –“I value your modesty, but if it were not for your efforts, I’m afraid the Overworld would already be taken over by the Underworld armies.”- Her white eyebrows furrowed sympathetically. –“No matter how you see yourself, you are still a hero to many.”

Observing her, attentively listening to her words, Shiro couldn’t help it but to lightly nod.

-“I suppose you’re right… But I _still_ don’t feel like I should be treated differently just because of the things I’ve done.”- He folded his arms around his chest, noting how he might be just embracing himself to seek comfort. –“It’s... not who I am. That’s why I didn’t mention my past as a commander.”

The Queen nodded. –“Do not worry. If anyone were to find out about your past, it won’t be from me.”

For the first time in a little while, those words made a smile appear in Shiro’s lips. It was still little and saddened, but it was a smile and it wasn’t forced. It was something. Which was what made Shiro croak out his last words.

-“I appreciate that, Your Highness.”

With that, they kept on walking, making way towards the stairway of the oracle.

Once up, Allura reached her desk, and in such a familiar position for her, she stood behind it. She placed her hands on top of the glossy surface, frowning as her eyes fell upon the contract made in stone she had signed with the King of the Norse Realms.

In the meantime, Shiro stopped further to her right, by the strong marble railings that unraveled the sight of the ocean. Crossing his arms, Shiro leaned the left side of his waist on the railings, looking up at the sky.

The moon was already out for a long time, its light perfectly illuminating the realm with its reflected light. Torches, on the outside, weren’t even needed. It looked so big from that spot, Shiro realized, not remembering how from the realms of gods, the moon was seen closer than it was from the human realm.

And so were the stars, as some sort of colored smoke – nebulas – that traced around the shining spots in beautiful calm tones. Tonight, it was green and teal.

-“What will you do, now?”

Allura’s faint voice did not startle him, blending in perfectly with the night’s orchestra of sounds. Slowly looking at her, Shiro noticed he no longer felt that heavy turmoil of negative emotions on his mind. Instead, that was replaced with a comfortable aura that the night managed to pass onto him.

-“… Besides mentoring Keith, of course.”- The Queen added, with a little movement of her hand.

Thinking about her question, he felt his eyebrows lowering, his lips forming a thin line. There was a considerable pause as he kept himself like that, rummaging through the confounds of his mind to find the right answer – struggling to do so.

Until he spoke, his voice, again, a tender faint whisper.

-“… I don’t want to go back to the Underworld…”

With a concerned look on her face, the Queen lowered her stance and spoke as if the answer was obvious. -“You don’t have to.”

-“I don’t have much of a choice.”- Shiro croaked as his eyes lowered, embracing the emptiness before them. –“They hunt down their deserters.”

-“We would _never_ let that happen.”

As memories of his abuse played back on his mind, reminding him of the times he was a piece of entertainment for the Underworld people, Shiro dared to glance at the Queen again, and the set of eyes he was met with instantly willed those memories to stop replaying themselves.

If he had ever seen eyes that kind in his life, maybe only when he saw the look his parents would give his child self. Or he could only imagine, as many beings had told him that his own gaze was the kindest they had ever seen, even though Shiro always thought of such statements as an exaggeration.

However, right now, towards Allura’s own eyes, Shiro couldn’t deny that such statement, towards her, had not even a drop of exaggeration.

And maybe that comforting look was the one keeping him from loosing it, keeping him from sobbing, keeping him from feeling, again, the hurt of all the hits he had taken in the arenas.

In the meantime, as she leaned herself away from the desk, Allura kept her speech. –“Now, more than ever, we need _strong_ , experienced gods to helps us resist. I could _never_ ask of you to join the war again, but your aid and advice would be _greatly needed_ on our side.”

As she finished, Shiro instinctively lowered his head as he wiped a tear under his left eye with his fingers. There was a pause, as Shiro only took in a shaky inhale, and when he spoke again, his voice was filled with _so much emotion_.

-“… _I’ve let the Overworld down many times_ …”

-“Shiro,”- A little pause. –“failure is part of life and war. You cannot dwell so much on it.”

Sighing, Shiro attempted to nod, knowing it wasn’t even clear, just a gesture he made with his head. –“I know.”- And then, somehow, when he looked up at her, a little smile was on his face, his wobbly eyes giving off a little playful glint. –“But a little achievement is nice from time to time.”

He noticed, before his smile, the expression of the Queen also relaxing. –“Just like failure it also happens. It’s a _balance_.”

Shiro nodded his head, now, explicitly, even though his words were just a mumble. –“Existence _is_ about balance…”

Unconsciously, using his hip, Shiro stepped away from the railings, and took some steps to stand closer to the Queen’s right, his arms still loosely crossed. When the goddess noticed his presence, she looked up at him, a soft smile on her expression.

-“You’ve never answered to my question, though.”- She was right, Shiro didn’t.

-“I guess helping the Overworld wouldn’t hurt.”- He said as he leaned the small of his back against the desk, his right close to the goddess. –“Long ago I _was_ …”- He frowned then, licking his lips as his mind reminded him that he probably shouldn’t give away that detail, and instead, he rephrased his sentence. –“… _I made_ it my duty to defeat Zarkon. For the longest time I thought I failed… But maybe there’s still a chance I can help stop him.”

There was a sense of determination in Allura’s expression as she spoke. –“We _will_ stop him. Together. As long as we, folk of the Overworld, have each other’s backs, the war isn’t lost.”

Feeling the corners of his lips quirk a little more up, Shiro glanced forward, still feeling her gaze on his right. –“Feels… odd to feel hopeful enough to say this again, but…”- He glanced back at her, lifting a hand over his folded arms. –“I’ll do everything in my power to help the innocent who didn’t call for this war. It was for them I fought… it’s about time I do so again.”

Shiro only hoped, as he voiced that into the world, that he wouldn’t break his promise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me as @spacefirebender on tumblr
> 
> Next chapter in a month! Get ready for things to slow down a little as the characters take some time to get to know eachother better, as well as themselves.


	3. Time For A Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, fellow kids. Here I am with yet another chapter... Enjoy.
> 
> BUT, before that, I'd like to give a HUGE shoutout to my friend, user EGGxactly, who is @matheradical-musings on tumblr for being my awesome beta reader for this fic. Thank you so much ya big nerd, I wouldn't be posting this without your help <3
> 
> And now, onto the chapter.

The academy trio’s shared room was not the largest, which was practically normal – as the room’s designs were standard for each student in the academy. Although, what it lacked in size, it didn’t in comfort – in all its modesty, but still cozy.

In the middle of the two bunk beds, which were both leaning on each side’s wall, in the clearing, stood Lance. A large grin was splattered on his face as his blue eyes had a shine in them alike the foam the ocean washed up against the beach.

Energetically, he curled his fist in the air, the other retracted by his waist. His voice was alike his posture, eager, child-like in a way.

-“ _Ten! Days!! Off!!!”_

Immediately as he spoke, to his right, Pidge jumped off the top bunk and almost swiftly landed on the floor. Her grin was just as blinding as Lance’s as, to his side, she struck a pose much alike his own.

-“Time for…!”

Both leaned in each other’s space as their voices cheered in unison. -“ _Unsupervised mischief_!!!”

From the bottom bunk to their right, Hunk looked up from the bag he was stuffing his baggage in. A contrasting reprehensive look was in his eyes, a heavy pout, as his eyebrows lowered.

-“ _Nooooooo_!!! No getting into trouble out there!”

Faced with that mild reprimand, both Lance and Pidge lamely let go of their previous enthusiastic poses. Pidge dismissively waved a hand at Hunk, her tone almost tired, sleepy with boredom. –“Hunk, you’re such a _mom_.”

To that, Hunk responded with a grumpy huff from his nose, but in those brown eyes of his, Pidge could see the glint of a smiley aura. That was why she didn’t feel bad snickering at her bigger friend as she struggled to climb back to the top bunk of their bed – _curse those tiny legs_.

Left in the middle, in the meantime, Lance crossed his arms as he glanced to his left, to his bed. His own bed, the bottom bunk, it was already freshly made, so no need to think about that for a while.

Shortly after, he peered up, to the top bunk, unused by anymore – which, come to think of it, was actually pretty handy, because Lance could stuff his things up there as much as he wanted to. And, speaking of which, there was his luggage. Still not ready for his departure.

Considering they were leaving that same day, perhaps he should get to packing…

_Hmm._

_Nah. That can wait._

Instead, with a chilled-out vibe, he turned around to face his friends again. –“Guys, where are you going, by the way? I mean, I know I’ll be going back to mom’s on the Oceans realm.”- His voice kept the same tone as before, but in his eyes, there was a child-like excitement. –“I’ll get to swim with the sharks!”- Gods, he hasn’t done that for _so long_. –“And if m’sis is home, we’ll go underwater cave exploring with my nieces.”

That moment, he glanced to the side, his face suddenly twisting in a little scowl. –“If she’s not spending time with _father dearest_.”

Thank the gods his grumbling was fairly inaudible. Or maybe it was just ignored, which was the best, for his own sake. That because, when Hunk spoke, his tone was completely normal, just as if Lance’s grumbling hadn’t even been spoken into the world.

-“Well, last break I went to visit mom in Osiris’s realm, but now I’ll spend some time with dad.”

Hearing that, Pidge perked up, as she leaned down to glance at her bigger friend, an excited grin on her face. –“ _Dude_ , you’re gonna spend your whole holiday in a friggin’ volcano?? That’s sick!”

-“Hah, it’s probably gonna melt me alive.”- Hunk joked as he carefully placed a neatly folded tunic into his luggage. –“But it’s cool dad found some time to spend with me, you know, between all the orders of _weapons-to-craft_ he has to go through. Plus, he said he’s gonna show me some _more advanced_ smithy methods!”

-“You go, you big nerd.”- Pidge paused for a little, her grin wavering, before she leaned down and quickly whispered. –“ _Tell me everything when you come back.”_

That earned a little laugh from Hunk. –“You know I have to info-dump somewhere.”

-“Okay, I get it, you’re _both_ huge nerds.”- Lance grinned as both his friends turned their heads to lightly glare at him. –“How about you, though, Pidge?”- He started, nodding at her casually. –“Wanna come with me?”

It was nice of Lance, to Pidge, that he had suggested that. He and Hunk were Pidge’s earliest and best-est friends, and since they knew most of her story, they knew the side effects that came with it. They knew just how painful and depressing it was for Pidge to go back home, to Athena’s estate. She’d always show up gloomy the days after.

Smiling, Pidge waved her hand at him. –“Actually, I’ll stay this time.”- She peered back to the huge backpack she had before her crossed legs, and stuffed another notebook in it. –“Coran said he needed assistance on checking out the state of the magic within the realm and you know I gotta help. That’s all over my alley.”

With a raised eyebrow, Lance spoke, slowly. –“Then… Why are you… packing…?”

-“Oh, these bad boys?”- She guessed as she practically slapped the backpack. –“Tons and tons of research I made overtime. I’ll take them with me to document newer discoveries. _Duh.”_

That simply earned a shrug from Lance. –“Well, catch us up on that when we get back.”

On the bottom bunk, Hunk looked up with a pleading look. –“ _Please!”_

Laughing, Pidge shook her head. –“No promises.”

 

 

…

 

 

Statistically speaking, this was a better punishment than he would ever have gotten in the Underworld. Personally speaking, Keith was feeling so embarrassed and ridiculously useless that he felt like he was _dying_.

Okay, maybe he was exaggerating, but that was the point.

He didn’t have his outfit on, instead having a cloth over his torso, making an X over his chest as it draped down to a tarp used as a belt. Another cloth went down to his knees, his pants now rolled up almost to them, using simple non-armored sandals.

Moping the floors of an empty classroom really didn’t appeal to him, that much was obvious. But alas, that was the fate of his decision, and now he just had to put up with it.

On the corner of the classroom, seating by the teacher’s desk, Shiro comfortably rested his crossed feet over it, his slouched position looking awfully uncomfortable – yet he didn’t appear to be feeling so. Open on his hands, was a scroll, one his eyes carefully read.

Alike his disciple, Shiro was wearing casual attire, rather than his old battle armor. A black robe ending by his knees, with swirling details in white.

Shiro didn’t seem to mind him, though, not even the scrunched-up expression Keith was sure he had all over his face. Well, at least now, with this break, the academy was almost empty, only a few students choosing to stay. And even so, there were no classes – thankfully.

That way nobody could laugh at his ridiculous state.

With a tired groan, Keith leaned himself up, his hand steady on the mop as he let his head fall backwards.

-“Did you really _have_ to suggest a _century_ of community work as my punishment??”

Poor Shiro really thought he could hold the truth from Keith. And that had been the case… for some solid thirty-three minutes before Keith made him spill. Well, at least Shiro was terrible at lying, which, in most cases, was probably a good thing.

Regarding the _maybe-rhetoric-maybe-not_ question, Shiro lazily looked up from his reading. –“Would you rather die?”- There was a pause as Keith stared at him, and Shiro held up a hand. –“… Don’t answer that question.”

That propped a long-suffering sigh to escape Keith’s mouth. He leaned the small of his back on the desk behind him, arms crossed and mop in the middle of them so it wouldn’t accidentally fall and make a big mess which Keith _had_ to clean up.

-“I’ve never done something more ridiculous in my life.”- He grumbled. –“I’m a soldier not a, not a cleaning-guy…”- His sharp tone slowed as a little confusion took over. –“person… Cleaner? I don’t even know the technical term for it.”

-“Janitor.”- Shiro easily supplied. –“And you’re telling me you never cleaned your home?”

Sensing the mildly sarcastic tone coming from Shiro’s deadpan voice, Keith released a sharp exhale. –“That’s not what I said…! Urgh, forget it!”- He lowered his head, and once he spoke again, it was merely a grumble from between his teeth. –“ _I’d rather fight one hundred arena battles.”_

Grumble or not, Shiro perfectly heard it. Suddenly, there was a completely serious expression on Shiro’s face, a furrow so deep Keith was sure he was about to hear a lecture or something the like.

-“No.”- Shiro firmly stated, as he furled the scroll and let it rest on the desk’s top, swiping his feet to the floor. –“No, you wouldn’t.”

Keith’s voice was faint when he spoke, his gaze on the floor, where he saw his feet idly nudging the mop. -“I have, and I’ve got through with it.”

There was a long pause – too long for Keith’s liking – in which Shiro must have been processing what he had just heard. Which didn’t make any sense, since Shiro was a lesser element in the Galra empire for the last century. He should have known.

-“Wait, _what?”-_ Shiro’s voice finally escaped into the universe. –“Why? _How?!_ ”

Keith only shrugged. –“Yeah… Well, it wasn’t as bad as the _Prisoners of War_ _Arenas,_ but… _Yeah_.”

Shiro sounded almost breathless and so perplexed when he spoke. –“Woah, I… _why_? You, had to do something _really bad_ -“- He was interrupted by Keith’s matter-of-factly tone.

-“Fifty for each time I used my Overworld power.”

The low voice, truthful, quiet, almost seemed like it had a deep amount of grief. One that perfectly matched by the way Keith’s eyes seemed darker. A tone that left Shiro himself gaping.

From the sporadic memories Shiro had from his first years in the Underworld, he could still remember flashes of moments when he was a gladiator. He still could recall some still images, some feelings, some sounds other than his loud breathing. And the pain… The pain was the one thing he remembered most.

Sometimes, it was like he still felt it. An itching on his arm, or by the scar across his nose. A feeling that sometimes grew shrill, almost unbearable. Even when he was simply lying in bed waiting for sleep to get to him.

Right now, looking at this younger god, who had gone through almost the same, Shiro couldn’t help but to feel for him. Granted, Keith’s experiences in the arenas were mild compared to Shiro’s – it was probably not a matter of life or death. Still, just knowing that such unforgiving sentence was given to him for such a victimless crime…

It just didn’t feel morally right. Not to Shiro.

-“That’s…”- Shiro croaked, a furrow evident on his face. –“That’s ridiculous.”

Keith’s head did not move, but Shiro saw the god’s indigo eyes glance at him. -“It’s the law there.”- And then he glanced away. –“I couldn’t do anything against it – Zarkon was literally the one calling the sentences.”

Of course, he was.

Sighing, Shiro placed his prosthetic’s elbow over the desk’s top, and leaned his head to it. As he rubbed the bridge of his nose, carefully, he felt the smooth obsidian-like material of his fingers threading across his healed scar. The coldness of the touch felt almost soothing in a part of his skin that felt, many times, like it was burning with heat.

-“Okay, okay.”- Shiro began, but paused to quickly exhale again, from his mouth. He opened his eyes, looking up to meet Keith’s. –“I’m not, I’m not gonna even… You _know_ that wasn’t fair, _right_?”

His disciple simply shrugged, a miserable look on his once before irked features.

-“I mean, it always felt like it wasn’t but then again, I was always… excluded for even questioning it, so what was even the point?”- He lifted his eyebrows at Shiro. –“It was normal, you know? There wasn’t really any other option.”- Another shrug, as he looked away. –“Honestly… I guess I only started to figure that out now… That…”- He uncrossed one of his arms and wiggled his hand in the air. –“that there _are_ other options…”

With a deeper furrow of his eyebrows, Shiro observed him. At least, that was good, that Keith was starting to see that there wasn’t just one path he could follow. There was no obligation to strictly follow one. He could opt by as many as he wanted. He could make his own decisions.

Though, Shiro noted, it would be a little while until Keith would be ready to make a decision for himself. In the Underworld, orders were meant to be followed, and the only one choosing his own path was Zarkon. The others simply followed his lead.

It would be weird and scary to step out of that routine. But Shiro, he believed in this kid. And if Shiro, as he had promised Allura, was making his life purpose to serve the Overworld again, then maybe Keith could be there with them, too.

He had the potential to.

Still, before that change were to even happen, there were a lot more lessons Keith had to learn, either through Shiro or by himself. So, until then, Shiro thought he wouldn’t voice his change in allegiance. Well, he had always been rooting for the Overworld, even when he was technically working for the Underworld, but now that he had gotten away, he could actively do it. But for Keith’s sake, he’d keep that fact ambiguous until his disciple was ready to accept it.

-“There are. There’s a lot of things that happen in the Underworld that aren’t _right,_ in here.”- Shiro’s voice made Keith peer at him again. –“That shouldn’t be right _anywhere_.”

Contrarious to what Shiro was expecting from his student, Keith didn’t allow his own tone to grow grim. Instead, he looked pensive for a small while, probably taking Shiro’s words into consideration – and by the way his aura felt like, Shiro knew Keith had accepted his words.

It was then that as Keith glanced back at Shiro, there was a lighter tone in his eyes, a little playful smirk on his lips.

-“So… No stabbing?”

The sudden humor was a pleasant surprise to Shiro, making him release a small laugh. –“Pretty sure the only stabbing that is allowed to happen in this realm is if the queen stabs you because you stabbed someone.”- A small creak was heard as Shiro leaned back on his chair, his posture and expression relaxed. –“And this time, I wouldn’t even try to stop that from happening.”

In response to that, Keith scoffed, even though there was a smile on his face. Shaking his head, he leaned away from the table he was leaning on, and got back to work.

-“Where’s your pet dragon, anyway?”

It was nice the conversations between them were growing more casual and laid back, rather than just – _a mentor desperately trying to advise his clueless disciple._ Shiro felt like a friendship was starting to grow there, as banter began to appear. Perhaps the bond they both were starting to share was stronger than just that.

One of family. A sense like Keith wasn’t only Shiro’s student, but perhaps, a little brother. One that Shiro wanted to guide through these tough times.

Yet, the content of that question simply made Shiro groan miserably, as he leaned his head back. He smacked a hand over his face and dragged it down to his chin slowly, his frown never wavering.

-“Hopefully not around. Slav is _so_ – _he gets on my nerves!”-_ Shiro exclaimed as he extended his forearms to each side _. -“_ All his ‘ _what if’s’_ and _percentages_ and _alternative realities_?! How does he even c _alculate that_?!”

An amused smile grew on Keith’s lips as he watched his mentor grow hilariously irked. –“Hasn’t it passed through your mind that maybe he just comes up with all that stuff to mess with you?”

-“What? _No_.”- Shiro’s prosthetic hand curled into a fist, and he leaned the side of his head on it. –“He’s actually a world-renowned genius. His thinking helped me a lot in many battle strategizing… So, no, I don’t doubt his genuineness.”

-“Huh…”- There was a pause, as Keith seemed thoughtful. –“So, even with all that history, you guys just… _don’t_ get along?”

To that, Shiro simply shrugged, pursing his lips. –“There’s personalities that just don’t match together, I figured.”

-“Hmm…”

Hearing the humming, Shiro raised an eyebrow. –“What is it?”

When his gaze fell on Shiro again, Keith seemed to be visually squirming, alike if he were caught off-guard, in a trap. –“Oh, I- I don’t… know. Well…”- He stopped what he was doing, as he gripped the mop’s handle with both hands. –“I mean, I guess I can, I can relate to that.”

-“Was there someone like that in your life?”

His eyes seemed to roam over the room – even the ceiling – before he found his voice. –“Uhm, no… Actually, yeah, but, it’s not him I’m thinking about… It’s…”- As he hesitated, Keith scratched the back of his head. –“It’s one of the newer kids that I mentioned to you the other day. I don’t know if you were paying attention…”

That evoked an amused smile to appear on Shiro’s face. –“You mean your friends? _Oh_ , please, _excuse me_ , your ‘ _classmates_ ’? Your _fellow associates_?”

Hearing the jokes, Keith stopped to frown at Shiro – but hey, at least he seemed more relaxed.

-“ _Very funny_. But, yeah. Basically.”

-“So, what’s with your classmate?”

And _that_ was the thing that prompted Keith to visually _snap_.

-“ _Ugh_ , it’s just-!”

Keith stopped himself as he had extended both his arms to his sides, noticing how he had almost spilled the cleaning bucket with his mop. With a careful gaze and an equally careful motion, he stopped his angry ranting to gently place the mop against the table in front of him. Seeing it secured, his angry ranting was back.

-“He’s so – _annoying_!”- Keith crossed his arms over his chest, the impact of his arms hitting his own torso making a fairly audible noise. –“I _literally_ can’t just _say a word_ , suddenly he’s got some _sarcastic comment_ to tell about it!”

-“Why’s that?”

-“I don’t f-“

Shiro’s voice casually interrupted him. –“Language.”

-“I don’t _freaking_ know. He just picked a fight with me, apparently. I didn’t do _anything_ to him.”

Silence fell in between them as Shiro limited himself to patiently observe Keith. Something told him that the younger god wasn’t over, and he felt like he should just give Keith some space to figure things out by himself, rather than just telling him everything he should do like Shiro was doing before.

His disciple was doing better these last couple of days they had spent together. It was time for Shiro to start to lighten his control over the leads of Keith’s destiny in the Overworld, and let him think for himself. 

The next time Keith spoke, Shiro noticed, his expression was no longer one of sharp rage, his furrowed eyebrows lifting. All that red emotion had loosened into a pensive aura. Until that aura gave way to a conclusion.

-“… _Oh_ …”

-“Oh?”- Shiro patiently repeated.

Nervously, Keith bit down his bottom lip. -“Uhh, I… guess he might have seen me getting work up, right when we, uhm, met. And… when that _happens_ my shadow power just kind of acts up and… _Yeah_ , it’s not really a friendly sight…”

-“So, a misunderstanding.”

Hearing Shiro’s diagnostic, Keith whipped his head to face him. –“I _wouldn’t say_ it’s a ‘ _misunderstanding_ ’.”

Rubbing his forehead with two of his fingers, Shiro let out a long sigh, saying the first word at the same time, sounding like it was part of the sigh. –“ _Keith_ … Just talk to him. You’re both adults – _You’re both adults, right_?”

Keith nodded.

-“Ah, good.”- A smile crept on Shiro’s lips. –“The least I needed right now is you picking a fight with a thirteen-century old.”- Keith’s glare was meant to be intimidating, but in Shiro’s eyes, he simply looked like an angry teenager, which only made Shiro grin. –“But seriously. Just talk to him about it. He’ll understand.”

They fell in silence for some long seconds, as Keith’s calmer eyes were cast low, to his feet. When he spoke again, his voice was almost tender. –“And what do I say?”

Shrugging, Shiro leaned back. –“My best advice is to just go right to the point, but you’ve gotta pick the right time. Just tell him how you feel about it – try to be _friendly_ – and work with what he gives you.”

-“What if what he gives me is another _stupid_ comeback?”

-“Well, then do what you feel is right.”- Shiro’s relaxed expression tightened as he creased his eyebrows, holding up a finger to point at Keith. –“But _no stabbing_.”

-“Woah, thanks for the great advice, _oh Shiro – The Wisest_.”- The musing tone was perfectly completed by Keith as he mockingly bowed to his mentor when saying his new ‘title’.

The unexpected humor made Shiro laugh again, drawing a grin from his student. –“I was being serious, though. I trust you to make the right call if he doesn’t respond so well.”

-“Do you?”- Keith instantly retorted. –“Do you _really_ trust me with that, Shiro?”

As he pursed his lips, Shiro nodded, an accepting yet weary tone on his expression. -“… Good point. No violent things - number one rule.”

Yet, looking up at Keith, Shiro felt his expression fall to a tired one. Because he saw the way Keith had quirked an eyebrow – and if that wasn’t a good indicator of what he was thinking, Shiro could feel in his aura the blatant confusion. Gods, this kid was either angry, angsty or confused. Those were all his moods.

-“I’ll need to clarify that, won’t I?”- As Keith nodded as an answer to Shiro’s quiet question, Shiro groaned tiredly, letting his head fall back. –“ _I’ll do it later._ But, like I was saying, just try your best at gaining his friendship. Try to understand him. Try to,”- Shiro rolled his left hand by his side, a gesture to help him come up with words. –“try to imagine what he’s feeling, and treat him the way you think he wants to be treated according to those feelings.”

Taking in Shiro’s advice, with crossed arms still, Keith diverted his gaze from his mentor, to the emptiness in front of him, slightly upward. Pondering on the words and the sense of them, Keith seemed to accept them. –“I guess that’s something to go by…”

That made a smile – a proud one, subtle – appear on Shiro’s lips, the wrinkles by his eyes evident. –“Hey, I know this is all a new thing for you, and it’s scary. But you know I’ll try my best to keep you out of trouble.”- Shiro’s sincere voice shifted to a slight playful tone. –“You’ll also have to cooperate, though.”

-“I mean, I’m here doing this stupid punishment, aren’t I?”

Shiro leaned his head away from his hand and slowly, sarcastically, clapped. –“Wow, glad to know you’re doing the _bare minimum_.”

Scoffing amusedly, Keith shook his head, before he got back to moping the floor. Eleven classrooms cleaned… Thirty-nine to go.

This was going to be a long week. Actually, scratch that. A long _century_.

 

 

…

 

 

Home. Lance felt like he was finally home, exactly where he belonged.

It had been so long since he had felt that way, without any worry in his mind of needing to get back to the academy soon because he was sneaking out.

Now, he was suspended in the middle of the vast ocean, right below the waves. He could still feel the warmth of the sunrays that managed to seep through the water onto his skin, casting dynamic lighting over him and his surroundings.

Lance himself was wearing his armor, still, minus his cape and helmet – which he had left at his mom’s home. In fact, that was the place Lance had immediately gone to right when he crossed realms. He didn’t even teleport to the main portal of the Ocean Realm because he knew that was by Poseidon’s castle… and truthfully, Lance wasn’t in the mood to see him.

One closer to his mom’s home did the job just fine either way.

Once home, he had been greeted by everybody, with the warmest welcomes and the coziest hugs. He had spent some time with them, too, just making normal conversation, until his mom asked him if he wanted to do something – knowing exactly what his answer would be, as she had obviously sensed what he was eager to do.

His answer had led him to where he was, now. He wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon roaming around the ocean.

And yes, he loved his family dearly, but he was sure he’d have plenty of time to spend with them afterwards. However, right now, he just wanted to feel like he was one with the salty waves. Like a fish back in the water.

Not even the slightly heavy armor he carried seemed to slow him down. More than a runner, Lance was an outstanding swimmer – again, an attribute he had gained at birth because of both his parent’s powers. Although, Lance had to admit it, when the currents were stronger, especially while pushing against him, he’d appreciate to have his legs turn into a tail like Poseidon’s could.

Sadly, that hadn’t been a part he had been born with. Nonetheless, he could still glide through the waves like a hawk flying through the skies, without needing to do much of an effort.

And his ability to breathe Underwater was also a plus.

A smile crept onto his face when he peered slightly down, to his left. There, his eyes caught a slithering grey stained with the blue tone of the ocean’s water.

Sharks.

And instead of retreating, alike many creatures would do, Lance gently swam towards them.

These creatures, he had learned, were so unfairly misunderstood. They were usually painted as villains, especially in the Human Realm, apparently. Yet, to him, someone who understood them, their behavior, their emotions and thoughts – as a child from the oceans would – Lance thought of them as friends.

Friends with a bit of a temper and really, really sharp teeth.

Facts that did not faze Lance. They never did, even when he was a young child.

If such temperamental creatures would be tamer around someone, it would be with Lance.

Now close to the sharks, who seemed to not mind his presence, Lance chuckled as he outstretched his hand forward, a shark swimming just before him. His hand met the side of the creature, feeling the sandpapery touch of its skin under his softer one.

And then the little cub did a sloppy turn, swam back to him, and this time it clumsily rammed its nose against his hand. Again, that willed a laugh to escape Lance’s mouth, bubbles coming out of it.

-“Such a puppy.”

As those words escaped his smiling lips, Lance’s eyes detected another, larger shark approaching him. A careful gaze in its eyes, ones that locked with Lance’s.

Now, Lance knew this pack very well, and they knew him. There was a strong bond and trust rooted deep in their relationship. Yet, Lance understood where that concern had come from. That shark was an older sibling of the little one that was still trying to play with his hand – one he had to yank back one time when the little creature tried to sneakily bite it.

And such, even if Lance was to be trusted, the larger shark still wanted to protect its little sibling.

That fact made Lance chuckle.

-“It’s okay, see, I’m not doing anything bad.”

Lance leaned away from the cub, the young animal quickly losing interest in his hand as it swam away, in slow circles. For a second, Lance watched it go, before he glanced back to the larger one, showing it his palms as proof he hadn’t done anything.

Yet, the shark didn’t seem to answer to him. It simply swam off towards its little sibling, as a protective and quite determined nanny.

Watching them go, a sigh escaped Lance’s nose, as a sad smile crept onto his lips.

When he had been back to his mom’s house, just some hours prior to this, Lance had made sure he had hugged literally everybody in the house. However, the fact that he hadn’t found the one person he was most excited to see – after mom, of course – he felt a small part of him sulk.

Lance had many, many siblings, especially as a child of an old god. However, most of those siblings were half-siblings, and gods or demigods whom he had never or rarely interacted with. The only sibling he was truly close with was his older sister, who was a child of his mother and father, too.

Because they grew up mostly on their mother’s house, Lance had always seen a best friend in her, and many times, a guide, too. She would be the older being who would outstretch her hand out to him every time he fell, with the sun’s light shining behind her head – well, that was the thing he’d picture from her when he was thinking of her as his guide at least. Because she was somebody great, talented, knowledgeable, and sometimes, it hurt Lance to admit it, but he felt jealous of her accomplishments.

It was something light, subtle, almost not there, but he knew it stained his blue heart with a mild, invasive green.

And although they were not twins, Lance felt always like they were counterparts. Because to him, she was the one in the spotlight her entire life, for her natural talent. And he, he stayed in the shadows, for his lack of it. At least, that was the case in their father’s eyes.

It had never been spoken, not that he’d heard, but, he knew that Poseidon was growing older and older. He had to retire eventually, just like Zeus had. And when he did, just like Zeus passed down his title to Alfor, Poseidon had to pass it down to one of his children. Undeniably so, Lance knew it’d be his sister.

She was the brightest candidate. It would only be fair she held Poseidon’s trident and made it hers. She would rule fairly; he was sure of it. And Lance would be really happy for her, because above everything, despite of their sibling bickering, he wanted to see her thrive.

It just… it was hard to always be shadowed by someone else.

And right after he crossed that portal earlier in the afternoon, after coming home and sensing the lack of his sister’s presence… Well, it had been expected, but it twisted Lance’s heart like a wet rag being wriggled, nonetheless.

As a bonus, he knew exactly where she was, too. She was with Poseidon, training.

Watching the little shark swim laps around the larger shark, as the rest of the pack lazily swam nearby, some nuzzling Lance from time to time, memories of old came back to him. Of the times his sister had taught him how to swim almost as if he had a tail.

He remembered one time they had swum close to a giant squid, which little Lance came to the conclusion after poking it, that it felt squishy. And well, after it fled in a hurry and tainted the waters nearby black, he also had to explain to his mom how his white tunic was _black all of a sudden._

As well as his… face. And his hair… And literally every bit of his exposed skin. Even his sister hadn’t escaped the black inky hell.

_And_ , fun fact, that was the only black piece of clothing he remembered having as a kid.

There was also another time he had awakened a sleeping hydra…

Yeah, that wasn’t much of a fun memory, more of a _traumatizing one,_ at that. He still couldn’t even be close to one of those creatures – it sent shivers down his spine. Once again, it had been his older sister who had gotten him out of the rageful sight of the giant water-hydra, and later it had been Poseidon himself who had to rush over to calm it down.

Of course, after that, his father didn’t waste time scolding him about getting into trouble again and again.

The saddened look in his reminiscing eyes disappeared as they settled on a larger shark swimming towards him, slower than the others. This one was the eldest, and the leader of the pack, position marked by thin lines – scars – on many spots of her skin.

Lance had swum by this shark since he was a little kid, as he’d see this animal as pretty much his _puppy_.

It nudged its nose against his side, and chuckling, he took its head, patting its sandpapery skin.

-“Good to see you, too, old friend.”

As child of Poseidon, he had inherited a silent power of knowing, somewhat, what other underwater creatures would be feeling, and at that moment, he felt the worry oozing off the shark’s aura.

Sharptooth knew him really well. She knew when he was in an emotionally distressful state.

-“I’m fine… I’m just kinda upset. My sister isn’t here… as usual. I’m _not mad_ though, I’m just _disappointed_. But I’m happy for her, you know? Working along with da…”- A cold pause. –“… With _Poseidon_. Like, she’s doing great things out there.”

He narrowed his eyes at the creature, sensing its doubt.

-“No, I’m not jealous!”- His eyebrows twisted as a thoughtful pout took over his features.

–“…Okay, maybe a little.”- He sighed. –“It’s just been so hard to impress dad, you know?”- He felt, as he looked down at the creature in his arms, that she understood. –“And she’s always done it naturally while all I did was brining him inconveniences and then he’d stare at me with his ‘ _neutral face of displeasure’_.”

With creased eyebrows and a sour twist on his lips, Lance closed his eyes, head falling subtly down.

-“But I feel bad for feeling like that… Like, some part of my mind is always telling me ‘ _hello, wake up, other beings are allowed to be better than you are’_. But then there’s this part who’s like ‘ _yeah but I need to be the best so others care about me and… and validate me?_ ”- A groan. –“Why is my mind so… _ugh_?!”

Blinking, Lance glanced at the creature idly by his chest. There was an accusatory tone in its aura. Not necessarily directed at him…

-“ _What? No_ , dad’s not the reason…”- Again, Lance paused, pensive.

–“… _Well_ … I guess… I guess that I… I do all these things to try to _impress him_ because I know I’ve never been… He was never _proud_ to call me his son. I know he hasn’t. I guess I just want to prove to him I’m not… some kind of _dead weight_ he has to always worry about… And not just him but everybody else – Allura, the other old gods, heck even _Pidge and Hunk_ sometimes…”

Reluctantly, his vulnerable eyes – a sight rare to most entities – observed the shark’s features before him.

-“ _Is that weird_ …?”

His faint tone had almost been hushed, a lost haunting whisper through the water around them, filled with self-doubt. Shame, almost. However, the animal’s eyes locked on his for a moment, a negative answer fluttering in Lance’s mind.

An answer that drew a smile out of Lance’s lips. –“Good to know.”

Long strings of minutes had fluttered by, Lance was sure, yet he didn’t know how many. All he knew was that he spent them huddled close to his friend, his hand gently caressing the shark’s rough skin. He felt a bubbly feeling coming out of the creature’s aura, a comfortable and fond intimacy.

That was the comforting thing, hugging his pet, feeling his stress and anxieties vanishing.

However, that cozy feeling coming from the shark’s aura was replaced by a stiff posture, a tension coming from the creature.

Quizzically furrowing his eyebrows, Lance felt his own hands on his friend freeze, as an electric wave crashed through his body, sending his hair standing on end. A feeling he always felt when he sensed that something wasn’t right.

With the racing heartbeat in his chest, fear rose, as he felt his skin twinge in an unpleasant electricity.

When after a second Lance’s frozen mind settled back into reality, he took the sight of Sharptooth looking slightly behind them, the middle of its body still hidden behind Lance’s torso.

In no time, his mind noted that all those feelings of inferiority had well vanished into Lance’s subconsciousness again, being replaced by a quiet, haunting panic. The one like humans would feel while being confronted with something paranormal.

He even noticed how all the other sharks were tense, too, swimming in hurried paces, but also not sure where to go.

Gathering courage, Lance shut his eyes closed for a second, releasing a deep breath. He felt a presence behind, sending chills down his spine. Yet, even in moments of fright, curiosity still poked at his strings. That and the relentless feeling of protection he always had when he felt a friend was in danger.

Quickly, he turned around, his abrupt motion having the water whispering hisses. But now that he was fully turned, he didn’t really see anything.

_Huh… Well that’s… strange…_

The only difference he noted was that where his eyes now rest, the water further to him looked… darker. It wasn’t that type of darkness like the iconic one from the Underworld, no. It was like how the ocean looked like while at night.

Or… it looked like a _shadow_.

But if that was ever to be a shadow, whatever it belonged to was really, _really large._

Lance squinted to see if amongst those waters was something, anything that could be a threat, or even just a passing being, yet he saw nothing but water and darkness.

So, he shrugged, pursing his lips as he raised his eyebrows.

-“Must’ve been a whale.”- He announced as he turned back to Sharptooth. –“They can get pretty big, especially in this realm, did you know?”

He noted the shark looked calmer, now. However, in its aura, there was still a tint of suspiciousness.

 

…

 

 

-“You need me to _what_?”

Shiro’s voice was equally just as strained and tired as his hilariously slumped posture, having his arms fallen to his sides, his knees circling outward.

Around them, was the academy’s forest, the one outline that surrounded the realm by land. It was a mix of an alpine one, with pines and yellow-green-ish small grass around the rocky soil. Further was another, a fantasy-like forest, with the large, insanely green willow trees. That one, however, was more prevalent in the valleys.

In the edges of the realm, where Shiro stood now, the alpine aesthetic prevailed.

In front of Shiro, Coran stretched his mustache with his fingers, pulling on it a little one more time, before he let it go.

-“… Do I really need to repeat everything I just explained, once more…?”

The slightly weary look on Coran’s face, however, instantly lit up, again, in his usual, chirpy tone. –“ _Oh well_! First off, I need you to hoist me up to that tree over there so I can check if the realm’s border is still working! We don’t want anyone to accidentally fall into nothingness…”- He leaned forward, conspiringly leaning the side of his stretched palm by his mouth, as he lowered his voice to a loud whisper. –“ _Been there. Not a pleasant experience_.”

Yeah, the time Coran had been falling through nothingness for _thirty minutes straight_ was probably the most thrilling yet sort of terrifying experience he’d ever been through. He was glad Alfor had somehow managed to warp Coran back to solid land with his powerful magic.

Casually, Coran leaned away again, crossing his arms behind his back. –“Then, I need you to hold this-!”- He handed Shiro a sort of futuristic white gadget with blue suspended lights all over it. –“And point it at the barrier! It’ll let us know how much energy it still has! _Then_ -“

In the background, as Coran’s rambling filled the air, Keith sat with his back leaned against a bulky rock. A large sack with weapons spilling all over the floor rested by his right, as on his lap he had a spear. Some parts of its blade were already dented, and he was sure his work wouldn’t do anything to amend that, but the liquid soaking the rag he rubbed against the weapon would prevent it from denting more. At least, not so easily.

Part of his community services – he was just taking care of the practice weapons. At least this was better than cleaning all the classrooms in the academy… That had been something.

And this situation, well, it was kind of funny, in a way. Even when Coran had randomly just asked Shiro for his help – saying he needed the god’s strength – Keith had to follow Shiro because the older god wouldn’t let him be unsupervised. And if Keith was to follow Shiro, his work had to also follow him.

To be fair, Shiro’s worries were reasonable, considering what Keith had been sentenced for.

In the midst of Coran’s rambling and Shiro’s groans, the sounds a little muffled due to the hood on his head, he also managed to hear a soft thud by his left side.

Suddenly, a huge backpack came to his sight, almost seeming like a camping one. Looking up, he saw a grinning god taking a seat by the other side of the backpack. Once seated, she crossed her tiny legs, and dragged the backpack to her lap.

Which probably had been a bad calculation because just as she opened it, a bunch of items – mostly notebooks and scrolls – flew out of the bag and onto the floor and her lap.

-“Oh…”- Said Keith, in a comfortable tone, as a little smile tugged at his lips. –“Hey, Pidge.”

_Wait._

He sounded… _really casual_ for someone who had done… what he did… in front of the other god.

Surely, if this was the Underworld, the procedures would be to brag about his feat. However, as Keith was starting to _finally_ understand, this was the Overworld. And as Shiro was engraving in his mind, here things were softer. Way, _way_ softer than what he was used to.

The times Keith wasn’t doing some sort of community work, he spent them with Shiro, training. And not the training he was used to.

Instead of drawing his sword, he’d sit on the ground, his legs crossed, having Shiro in the same position seating across from him. The older god would teach him many things about the history of the Overworld, but mostly, Shiro talked about _morality_.

It was a word in Keith’s dictionary, for sure, but one that was hardly used. Now, however, he was starting to hear a lot about it and what it meant.

And everything that word stood for was exactly the opposite of what the Underworld’s principals obliged.

Without a doubt, it was a very confusing thing to assimilate in his mind. Because… it was never taught to him, so he had to understand it by himself. He learned, it was actually something he had deep in his head, even after the Galra twisted his perception of the world so badly. It was natural, a feeling that what he was doing felt off, one he learned to brush off quickly.

Yet, it was sinking into his brain again. He just needed time.

Either way, he hadn’t seen Pidge since the start of the battle, before he left for the middle of the arena. He had no idea if she knew that he was learning how he had made a mistake, and was dealing with the weight of it. In a less cruel way than what he was used to.

Perhaps, she was to look at him with resentment.

Yet, she had smiled at him before her bag exploded and its contents spilled on her lap and floor.

Not sure of what to do, Keith thought that maybe he should test the waters first. Just to access the situation.

-“Uhm… Are we…”- With the hand he was using to hold the spear, he reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. –“… Are we cool?”

In the motion of trying to frantically collect all her things and stuff them back into her backpack, Pidge hardly acknowledged his words until the meaning of them – and his unsure tone of voice – weighted in on her mind.

Slowly, with her hands frozen over a couple of scrolls, Pidge glanced at Keith’s wary face.

And then she burst out laughing.

Such reaction drew an expression to Keith’s face, one of a mix of confusion and mild offense. –“ _What the_ …”- He softly wondered.

Pidge was already holding onto her belly with her left arm, as she wiped a tear away from her face with her right one. –“By the gods…”- She managed to utter in between laugher. –“You’re _so awkward_.”

That statement made Keith purse his lips – almost in a pout – as he hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms around his chest. When he spoke, it was a grumpy mumble.

-“ _I’m already self-conscious about it, you don’t need to remind me_.”

However, that only drew more laugher out of the tiny god’s mouth. And, well, seeing Pidge wheeze like that, Keith couldn’t hide the little smile that was on his face. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be alright between them.

When she calmed down, rubbing her eye behind her glasses, Pidge sighed a faint laugh. –“But, yeah why wouldn’t we be cool?”- She looked up at him. –“You literally just got rid of a really annoying bully who had it coming. I’m not gonna say it was a _good thing_ – because it wasn’t - but it also wasn’t necessarily a _bad thing_ …”

-“Don’t encourage me.”

The mildly amused tone in Keith’s voice made her utter a short laugh. –“Hah, true. I better not. Maybe try _not_ to do that next time.”

A sigh escaped Keith’s mouth, as well as the amusement in his features. –“If there’s even a next time. The queen doesn’t really… like me.”

-“Allura?”- Clicking her tongue, Pidge dismissively waved a hand at him. –“Oh, don’t worry about that, she’ll warm up to you. She’s _really cool_ , trust me.”- Pidge leaned forward, adjusting her crossed legs, and placed each hand on each knee. –“I don’t think she’d ever do anything too harsh. Unless you really mess up. Like, _villain_ type of messing up.”

-“Pretty sure I already did that. Let’s just hope I don’t do that again.”

Raising an eyebrow at Keith, Pidge observed his expression. It was alike the one he wore when he had admitted to her, Hunk and Lance that Underworld soldiers would not hesitate to kill their own. There was a heaviness there that she couldn’t understand, and a dark glow in his eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

With furrowed eyebrows, Pidge took some seconds to observe his expression a little more, before she shrugged.

-“… That sounded pretty ominous.”

Regarding her comment, Keith glanced at her, and the heaviness that before was on his gaze wasn’t there anymore. Instead, it had been replaced by a smile. Yet, the way his eyes were still darker, and the way his eyebrows were furrowed, it was more like those melancholic ‘ _don’t worry about me’_ smiles.

Ones used to hide a much graver state of mind.

-“Good.”- Keith decided to joke.

As Pidge snickered at his answer, she settled her attention back to the stack of papers by her lap, and continued to place them in their spot in the backpack. In the meantime, Keith was already back to polishing the spear, the smile he wore growing genuine.

And they tried to ignore Coran shrieking in the background as he fell into Shiro’s arms in a failed attempt to climb up a tree. Okay, maybe they really couldn’t ignore it, since they winced and both stared at the two older gods.

Both blinked at the sight, for long, long seconds, before, at the same time, each one of them glanced at the other, very slowly. And when their eyes met, only a heartbeat passed before both barked out laughs, each of their own.

Pidge even noticed that guy with the white streak of hair looking at them with a mildly displeased expression – not as a reprimand, but obviously coming from embarrassment as he still held a rambling Coran in his arms, who dramatically held the back of his hand over his forehead.

It seemed that person was Keith’s caretaker or inspector or whatever his rule was. She didn’t even really catch his name in between Coran’s fast rambling.

Although, something about him seemed oddly familiar, even though she was pretty sure she had never met him before.

Keith must have noticed her staring and frowning at his mentor, because soon enough, he spoke up, spontaneously. Which, Pidge had noted in her mind, was a good thing, as she recalled the day they met, when she basically interviewed him.

-“What’re you even doing here?”- Keith casually glanced at her before he put his spear down on the ‘ _done_ ’ pile and grabbed for an axe in the ‘ _not done’_ pile. –“Wasn’t there a ten days break?”

-“Yeah… but going home is depressing, and I didn’t really want to bother Lance and Hunk, so I thought I’d follow Coran around instead,”- Pidge nodded forward, towards the man in question who was, again, attempting to climb a pine tree. –“and learn about how realms work. To a bigger extent, at least.”

It seemed Keith’s gaze had followed hers, as his eyes locked on the ginger-mustached god. –“Huh…”- Then, he peered at her. He seemed to wince, even though that was hardly noticeable. –“… By the way… Hunk and Lance…”

Sensing where he was going for, Pidge cut him some slack and spoke before he could trip over his words. –“Nope, they don’t hate you either, if that’s what you wanna know. They are wary, sure, but they don’t _hate_ you.”

Watching from the corner of her amber eyes, Pidge tried to ignore the doubt flaring in Keith’s own eyes.

However instead of questioning him about that look, she invested in keeping the topic of the conversation light - a contrast with how heavy the last days had been. –“You’re coming back to class, right?

-“My mission hasn’t changed, no.”

-“Well,”- She shrugged. –“then you’ll probably get to talk to them about it, anyway.”

Stopping his polishing work, Keith turned his torso around to her, as the expression he wore in his eyes seemed terribly yet comically distressed. -“ _But have you considered_ – _I’m awkward and I have no idea what I’d tell them!”_

That only drew another snicker out of Pidge, ignoring the part of her mind that told her that yeah, his awful social skills probably came from a life filled with loneliness. Okay, so that thought made the smile on her face waver, but she wouldn’t let him know that.

-“Don’t worry about that,”- Even though Pidge’s tone was a mix of teasing and casualness, it was also friendly. –“they’ll understand.”- She took a pause, followed by a light grimace. –“ _I mean_ … give them time. Don’t expect them to trust you after what you’ve done.”

Pursing his lips as he acceptingly tilted his head, Keith shrugged. –“That’s fair.”

That made Pidge let out a laugh sounding almost like a scoff. However, soon enough, Pidge found a notebook filled with some sort of stamps and grinned widely. She proceeded to frantically open it, as at the same time, a quill appeared on her hand.

Watching the little god write something down, Keith noticed her looking up and down at Coran and Shiro, especially at the earlier, since he was doing some sort of thing next to the invisible barrier of the realm.

His eyes went lightly wide as he saw the spot Coran was pointing his device to – from the tilting top of a pine tree – towards the air in front of him. And that spot in particular, it glowed, grimly, in a transparent bright blue, while some sort of honeycomb pattern subtly fit in it.

The continuous alpine forest and the mountains after the barrier, Keith knew, were simply illusions, to keep a sort of aesthetic. To avoid the nervousness of stepping to the solid edge of the world and only see nothing but an unending white, alike an unfinished canvas, or perhaps black of nothingness… Keith wasn’t really sure how the other side looked like.

However, he must say… Never had he seen the border of a realm physically manifest. Even when he’d venture to the ends of the Underworld’s dead forests, he’d only feel the flat surface when he’d hit the end. Beyond that, he’d only see more of that same landscape.

Seeing it, though… It was pretty cool.

And that wonder in his eyes, as in his head, was softly shaken to reality when he heard Pidge’s low, uncertain voice. He hadn’t even notice she had stopped writing.

-“Hey, Keith?”

Glancing at her, Keith was able to confirm his assumptions. She really did look like she was folding onto herself, shoulders flat, eyebrows furrowed. A sight that made him frown cautiously.

-“Hmm?”

-“You’ve always said you were a soldier, right?”

-“Yeah?”

-“What kind of soldier?”- Lifting an eyebrow, Pidge seemed like she was gaining more and more courage to speak up by the second. –“Like, were you fighting wars or were you a guard? Did you have any status? Did you know _anything_ about how the, how the empire works?”

Overwhelmed by all the fast questions thrown at him, Keith blinked and felt his head lightly jerk back. However, then, he started to slowly lower his eyebrows as he narrowed his eyes.

-“… Is this an interrogation…? Because _I’ll have you know,_ I’ve been trained to never budge and-!“

-“ _Dude_ ,”- Pidge’s deadpan voice interrupted his almost paranoid rambling. –“chill out. I’m not trying to pry secrets of war from you. I just… wanted to know…”

Keith spent a long string of seconds observing her with the same suspicious expression before he sighed, his tense shoulders lowering.

-“Well… I was a guard, still in training to become part of one of the armies. And I don’t know what you mean with ‘know anything about the empire’ because, duh, everybody who lives there knows how it works.”

Pidge united both her stretched palms and leaned them over her mouth, feeling her fingertips touch her nose. Patiently, she took a deep breath.

-“Okay… let me try again…”- Another deep breath, before she let her hands fall on her lap. –“Look, all you need to know is that I’m looking for someone close to me. I think they might be in the Underworld…”- With a sour twist in her lips, Pidge glanced away, her expression – alike her tone of voice - defensive. –“… And I wanna know if by any chance they can make it, there, or even escape…”

Understanding, Keith lowered his eyebrows, wearing a noticeable downward tilt on his lips. –“Sorry, Pidge.”- He softly said. –“I was a patrol guard, I guarded the edges of the Underworld, not the prisons. And that’s assuming they’re imprisoned because really, nobody just enters the Underworld for a long time and leaves or even... survives.”

Peering at his hands on his lap, over the half-polished axe’s blade, Keith frowned. -“Are you sure they’re even-“

-“ _Yes_.”- A little too harsh had been Pidge’s voice, but she couldn’t just let him say things like that.

_How dare he say things like that._

However, knowing Keith had no idea what was happening, Pidge let all that sudden anger that was bubbling up inside her go. All with a simple exhale from her nose, feeling it drain just as the air drained from her lungs.

-“Yes…”- Pidge said again, in a friendlier tone – however still defensive -  and tried not to notice how her voice cracked. –“I know he’s alive. He _has_ to be.”

-“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”- Lamented Keith after thinking for a while. –“But… if it’s worth anything… I hope he’s okay, whoever he is.”

On his side, Pidge had moved her legs upwards, as the papers and notebooks on her lap fell to the ground. At the same time, she had wrapped her arms around her knees as she rested her head on them.

-“You and me both.”

Hearing that mumble, and seeing the grim look on Pidge’s almost watery eyes, Keith frowned, in a sympathetic way. Although, he didn’t say anything else. He was sure if he did, he’d get a reaction from Pidge both didn’t want to see. Prying wouldn’t do anything, he knew that for sure.

And consoling, he was terrible at it. Gods, how he wished he could be like Shiro in those regards. The older god really was great with words and advice. He was wise – fitting for his title.

Seeing the miserable look on Pidge’s face, Keith thought about calling Shiro over, get him to try to comfort the smaller god, but… Shiro was busy. Plus, Pidge was being obviously secretive about her loved one, so maybe calling a third party into the conversation would probably anger her.

So, instead, Keith opted for the most neutral yet safest option he had in his hands: stay silent.

And silent he remained.

Until Coran’s yelp captured his attention, noting from the corner of his eyes how it also got Pidge’s.

The man, well, now he looked just like he was trying to infiltrate a pine tree convention of some sort because his whole body was covered in its pointy ‘leaves’. One of which stuck right onto his mustache, which seemed just as disheveled as his hair.

Apparently, as he tried to climb down the tree, he slipped, causing him to fall on many branches, but – hey – at least he stuck the landing. Rather gracefully in fact, resulting in him bowing around.

In the meantime, Shiro was completely frozen in place, holding the device Coran had let slip from his hands during the fall. He eyed the other god up and down, not even realizing how his chin was literally dropped.

-“Good… job, Coran.” - Shiro’s voice still sounded completely dumbstruck.

-“Why, thank you!”- The man’s smile was just as blinding as the morning’s sun, as he held his finger in the air with determination. –“Now, only _thirty-four_ points left to check!”

And that was enough for Shiro to lose his bewildered gaze, instantly dropping it into a weary expression as he groaned. –“Is this really necessary?”

-“Absolutely!”

An undeniably tired sigh left Shiro’s mouth, as even his large shoulders visibly fell. –“I’d actually like to hear the Queen’s take on that.”- Slowly, his eyebrows lifted, just as Coran crossed in front of him. –“Uhm, where _is_ the queen, really?”

Stopping in his heels and turning around, Coran brought his palms together, only letting his fingertips touch their matches. When he spoke, his voice was slightly high-pitched.

–“ _Well_ …”

 

Zeus’ estate away from the Olympus, had many familiarities with the academy’s realm. However, the white marbles were adorned with a soft purple, in many patterns and drawings. Another thing that was different, compared to its smaller size, in terms of available land, was that all around the estate’s limits were clouds.

Many, many clouds, resting just in eye-level. It was like the house itself had left earth and levitated until it reached the clouds, which enveloped its sides in their fuzzy-looking embrace.

At the back was a pool, having the perfect view for the clouds and the sunlight above. By one of the smaller sides of the pool’s rectangular shape, were many lounge chairs, one in question occupied.

Wearing a soft white silk short dress, alike a bathing suit, the queen rested her untied cloudy hair on a comfortable pillow. Feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin, Allura deeply exhaled, in a relaxed manner.

A break wasn’t often something she would be able to take, but when Coran insisted that she needed a break just as much the students did, she only had room to argue for a little longer before she realized Coran wasn’t backing down.

What a sweet angel that man was. Always taking care of her like if she was a child of his. And at some level, she didn’t doubt she felt like that was the case.

Although the rest and pleasant thoughts were a constant in her state, there was a small, lingering feeling in the back of her mind. A chant filled with responsibility, one that never let her rest, one that took many hours of sleep from her nights, even in holiday.

Disgruntled, Allura felt one of her eyelids slowly open, peeking to her right side, at a bunch of scrolls perfectly stacked into a neat pyramid on the other lounge chair.

Ah, yes, the responsibilities that were the greatest root to her unrestingly worries. There they were. Granted, if she were to pick up only one of those scrolls, hours would be spent with her dwelling on whatever it was the duty that needed her input. A strategy, movement of troops, problem solving. One of plans of battle if the pact of the Underworld wouldn’t work, which felt inevitable seen in a pessimistic glow.

Yet, she had promised to Coran not to touch that pile in the following days, just some, where she allowed herself to be a being other than a busy queen. A string of days where she allowed herself to be Allura. Surely that would be better with company, other than the occasional staff of the estate, and even some gods related to Zeus who would come by for various reasons.

Still, it was a start. The headache that the queen was feeling for the last couple of days, one that was stubbornly refusing to leave her head, had finally vanished. It was a sign that this little time of relaxation was being good for her.

Work, after all, could be done later. Just for once.

So, with a squint in her eyes, she took in the perfect pyramid of scrolls one more time, before she closed her eyes again, adjusting her head on the pillow to face the sky.

-“ _Not today, Hades.”-_ Mumbled the queen.

 

Back in the academy, Coran was chirpily twirling his mustache. –“… Let’s just say, Her Majesty is on a well-needed break.”

That willed another sigh to leave Shiro’s mouth, however, there was an acceptance in his features. –“Can’t say that’s not a good thing.”- He paused his speech, and as he placed his hands on his waist, his characteristic gentle smile started growing back on his face. –“Alright, there’s still a lot of work to be done, might as well crack on it.”

His sentence resulted in a blinding smile from Coran, who hurried to get some bags of equipment back on his person. Before Shiro would do the same to get some weight off of the older god’s back, he glanced towards his disciple and his friend, whistled to get their attention, and waved.

He saw Keith recognize what he meant when Shiro pointed to Coran and the device-filled bags, as he immediately made his way to pack his things as well to move on. The little god, probably one of the ‘ _new friend group whom Keith had denied to think of them as such’_ , also was packing their things in a backpack that was just as large as their person.

Effortlessly slipping a bag of Coran’s over his own shoulder, Shiro watched as Keith helped his friend get some of the scrolls back on the backpack. He also couldn’t ignore a proud smile catching on his lips.

Shiro was right about Keith. There was some good in this kid. Shiro could see that through the little things, like the way his eyes would seem gentle when he was being vulnerable. Like the way he wanted to help others and improve.

Even if, Shiro wasn’t going to lie, there was still something about Keith that worried him. Shiro could feel it every time. After all, Keith had been trained – or even better, _brainwashed_ – since he was a young kid to accept the Underworld’s principles as the only true ones. Such beliefs that injected in such a young state could blind even the brightest.

However, Keith had also admitted how he was questioning the things he once believed to be true – plus, he even confessed he had sort of distantly _always_ questioned them.

All this, the younger god being more sociable, and surprisingly emotionally open when someone reached out for him, as well as him recognizing that his people were in the wrong in the middle of all this – or, more accurately, _starting to_ …

That, was the start of a great journey. The first steps towards it.

_This was progress._ And Shiro was glad to be there to witness it.

 

 

…

 

 

Clank. Clank. _Clank._

The echoed iconic sound of metal beating against metal was the loudest thing in the enormous room. Although, unlike a clash of swords in the battlefield, this noise sounded duller – coming from a giant hammer hitting a glowing hot blub.

Hephaestus’ Forge.

A volcano’s heart highlighted only by some built-in structures holding the mighty room together, made in a bulky concrete-like material. The walls of the room took the shape of an uneven cylinder, its natural walls made of smoking obsidian.

The walkways and floors were made of the same material as the columns holding the walls together. These had various carvings, in a stylized, sharp-looking manner, those that glowed amongst the dark grey of the material with a lively orange – perfectly mimicking the lava’s color.

Speaking of which, that had been the whole purpose of the built floors and walkways: because beneath those, lava bubbled up, sometimes rising a little too close to the walkways themselves.

Needless to say, the atmosphere in the forge was miles past from being simply scorching hot. No doubt a human would have frailly melted way before they even managed to get this deep into Hephaestus’ workshop.

Good thing the only two figures occupying the room were far from human – not so much in looks, but in raw power.

With a curious shine in his focused eyes, Hunk watched his father’s larger and muscular figure rise his forge hammer in the air, and beat it against the sphere that in time, would no doubt turn out to be an incredible mace.

What would draw Hunk’s curiosity, was that Hephaestus’ movements seemed to be completely random for a set of novice eyes, but knowing quite a bit about forging himself, Hunk could tell how every single quick movement had been meticulously calculated.

With one last hit, Hephaestus let the arm with which he held his hammer fall to his side, using the back of his left hand to wipe his soaked forehead.

The top of the god’s head was almost completely bald, though the thick dark brown – almost black – hair that covered the sides of his head and a little of its top, didn’t exactly look too bad on him. Certainly, it matched his grizzly beard. His skin, it was human-like, but had a coloration to it as thought it looked like a blend of normal skin and ashes – mainly looking like a lively grey.

-“Would you pass me that bottle?”

The old god’s looming, well-projected voice made Hunk jump back a little out of pure surprise, until he glanced over his shoulder, at a stand filled with bottles and pots containing many kinds of materials.

Heh, it was kind of fun to think about these little guys – bottles, Hunk meant. Because those so simplistic yet kind of fascinating little guys were an innovation humans had yet to discover.

Glancing back at his father’s pointing finger, and then at the stand again, Hunk started to approach the stand cautiously, still not sure about which one Hephaestus meant. Although he calculated that maybe this one bottle with this funky pink-ish liquid with some sort of – _whoa was that an eye in the middle of it?!?_

-“No, the other-“

Oh, thank gods, Hunk was not about to even place a _single finger_ on that _greasy eye-containing bottle of hell_. Never in his _life_. Nuh-uh. No, thanks. Next.

Hovering with his finger above a bottle to the side of The Bottle of Doom, Hunk squinted his eyes at the new subject of his attention. This one held a red liquid in it, bubbling as much as hot oil when cold water would be sprinkled on it.

However, it was good to note that even though it was red, that didn’t exactly look like some kind of blood, which was already a good point in Hunk’s book. It was too transparent to be it. It seemed more liquefied.

Still, with a large drop of caution in his aura, Hunk slowly curled his thumb and index finger around the bottle’s neck. Hmm, smooth and pristine clean, save it for a bit of ashes that were granted to gather on things – they were in a freaking volcano after all.

-“Yes, that one.”

Smiling with satisfaction, Hunk walked over back to Hephaestus’ left side, gently holding out the bottle for the other god to take it. With fingers that were surely larger and bulkier than Hunk’s two or even three times more, the old god took the round bottom of the bottle with a surprisingly gentle touch.

-“Ehh…”- Still with narrowed eyes, Hunk folded his right arm around his chest and placed his left elbow on top of his right curled hand. Questionably, he tilted his unoccupied hand forward, towards the bottle on Hephaestus’ hand. –“What is _that_?”

Feeling the weight of the bottle on his hand, Hephaestus cared to explain. –“Some Ares’ kid wanted a mace forged that would increase her anger while wielding it.”- Casually, he brought the bottle’s cork to his teeth and effortlessly took it out, spiting it to the side. –“Said that drew strength from her to fight.”- He lifted it up, analyzing the liquid inside. –“This Essence of Pure Fury will allow the weapon to do just that.”

A little gasp full of wonder left Hunk’s lips. -“ _Cool_.”

That urged a little smile to appear in Hephaestus’ lips, one that was contagious even to his grey-steel eyes. Just briefly, though, since he had a job to do. Like so, he willed his attention to settle back to the anvil in front of him.

Hunk had to admit it – going to Egypt to visit mom was always a blast. That being said, he always felt like that was always his mind’s first option. For a while, that would have driven him away from his dad a little bit. But when he realized that unconscious pattern he had been taking, Hunk felt horrible about it.

When some centuries ago he started to spend some more time with his dad, he did not only fall in love with the way smithing worked, but Hunk also started to realize that – hey, his dad was pretty cool, too. Unlike the way some would paint him for his sometimes grumpy attitude.

And yeah, his parents weren’t exactly together, as the way romance worked for the old gods was more about finding a different partner for a time in their lives and then moving on. A phenomenon that was changing in newer generations, where gods seemed to take a more human-like approach to romance, opting for settling for long-lasting relationships with the partner or partners they wanted to spend their life with.

Honestly, both ways were fine. It was mostly just a note in Hunk’s mind.

_Wait_ , he should probably pay attention to what dad was doing – _and oh_ , there he went to dip the mace into hot magma again.

Left alone for a little bit, Hunk narrowed his eyes at his obviously racing mind.

-“ _Don’t think about it.”_

And yet his mind did, in fact, think about it.

_It_ , being the subject of Hunk’s worries for the past week: None other than the arena duel. Particularly Keith. Shifty, _shady Keith_ who Hunk was beating himself over because – _okay, wow_ – he really was tricked into thinking that an Underworld god was trustworthy?

He should have gone with his gut feeling which was to maybe listen to Lance for once and ditch this shady guy. But _no_ , Pidge had to take him in like if she were taking in a stray puppy – and then it turns out it was a – a _wolf_ in a sheep’s clothing the entire time.

A heavy sigh left Hunk’s mouth as he felt himself deflating.

Had it not been for the academy’s guards to arrive just in time, what would have happened? Would the guy turn to the audience and in his blinding rageful state attack them out of the blue?

They had even spent so much time with Keith! _The entire afternoon_!

And that, that made a disturbing thought reach Hunk’s attention.

What if Keith would have lost it while hanging out with them? What then?!

Honestly? That whole shifty shadow-thing he was doing as Hunk met him was already a huge red flag. Thinking about it, Keith’s whole demeanor was a bunch of red flags tossed right into Hunk’s face and yet he still let himself be persuaded by Pidge’s insistence.

Hey, to be fair, Pidge’s puppy-dog eyes were legendary for never failing her.

Still, a larger disaster could have happened had just a butterfly fluttered its tiny wings at a different time – just even a millisecond before or after. Had Hunk persisted to be protective when meeting Keith, completely ignoring Pidge, a fight could have ensued. Had Lance pushed just a little farther with his teasing, there could have been a tragedy.

Yet, it had been the Norse god who had triggered it.

Which left Hunk dwelling on another concern of his after realizing this fact - that a tragedy could happen in his own friend group. And that one concern manifested in the form of a question.

If said thing would ensue – a volatile situation having the option of reasoning completely thrown out the cart – what would Hunk do to prevent it – a tragedy – from happening? At the very least, keeping it from getting worse?

What would Hunk do? He wasn’t a fighter. Hell, he remembered time and time again when he’d see Vali pester Lance, and Lance pestering him back, and he would just gulp a little and hope he’d turn somehow invisible.

He was just so _passive_. And sometimes, that wasn’t a big deal for Hunk, but others…

His inability to react out of fear of bad consequences made him feel powerless. No need to sugar-coat it, Hunk was not only a mediocre fighter, but sort of a… of a coward, too.

It hurt to admit the last part.

Being one of the worst at some things – it usually didn’t bother Hunk. He knew his strengths. He was a smithy growing as skilled as Hephaestus himself, he was a hell of a cook, no doubt about it, but probably the thing Hunk took the most pride in was that he was extremely compassionate.

That one trait made him feel like he was great in diplomatic situations. He would use his empathetic sentimentality to know how to go about a conversation, no matter how much he had to tip-toe around something to keep the other from getting upset.

_Plus_ , that would make Hunk great friend-material. Just another bonus in his book.

Yet, now that danger was finally right in front of them in the academy’s realm, that was the single thing making Hunk questioning if he should really just _accept_ the things he was bad at.

Particularly fighting and being courageous.

Because if there was a possibility of someone getting hurt – Hunk wanted to help. That was just how big his heart was. And if said situation would throw logic and reasoning and diplomacy right out the window – what was really left to do?

To draw out his hammer and fight, for those needing a hand.

Hunk just didn’t know he had it in him to lend it to them.

The fact that he wasn’t really this passive-aggressive about Keith at first, too, proved his point. He took in situations in such way that would later make him feel used, and that would just make his pettiness reach high levels.

_We’re talking dangerously salty levels over here._

A loud clank startled him out of his bitter thoughts, making him physically jump, feeling static electricity flow through his skin.

Until he noticed it had just been dad who had returned and had let the mace’s weight fall flat on the anvil as little bits of sparks sprayed upon impact.

-“Oh, my bad.”- Hephaestus apologetically frowned. –“Startled you out of your thoughts?”

Feeling a shaky huff leave his lips, Hunk half-heartedly nodded.

The old god’s frown took up another meaning, twisting in a tenser way. Preoccupied. –“Son… What is bothering you?”

Blinking, Hunk abruptly shook his head. –“ _Huh_? Hah, wha-“ - Unconsciously, Hunk started to not so subtly shift with his hands. –“What? Pfft, _no_ , I’m not, I’m not- _bothered_. Pfft, what makes you think that I could possibly be _bothered_? I mean, there was just a _murder_ in the academy, right? Nothing borderline ‘ _serious_ ’-”

-“Come on,”- The old god persisted with a sensitive low tone. –“I’ve known you for twenty-two centuries, you do not fool me anymore, Hunk.”- There was a pause, as Hephaestus stroke his beard, holding the other hand by his waist. –“Your ranting _does_ give away your concerns either way. Might as well voice them fully.”

It was with a defeated groan that Hunk seemed to have a large amount of weight over his shoulders, because he left his shoulders slump miserably, his head hanging low.

-“I was wondering…”- Slowly he started, not noticing how the nervous shifting of his fingers started again. Probably shouldn’t start in the most sensitive subjects, because, let’s be honest, Hunk was gonna cry today. Might as well get the easiest stuff out of the way first.

He took a deep breath. –“Okay, so, first, I don’t know if you know already, but the bow you made for Lance… It just – _whoosh_ – turned into a sword?!”

Hephaestus’ sight elevated upward, to the taller area of the walls behind Hunk, his look thoughtful. –“Hmm, he’s on that stage now?”

-“You… you’ve _planned it_??”

The older god’s gaze fell upon his startled son with a calm manner. –“Well, no. It simply happened while forging, and I saw it as a good thing, so I did not correct it. I figured if his ice’s essence shifted from a bow to a sword, it meant that it was going to be a necessary transformation for him.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Hunk lifted a curled hand to his lips. –“Huh… I’ll let him know.”

A small smile appeared in Hephaestus’ lips, before, as the seconds dragged on in silence, it slowly melted away, replaced with a melancholic concern. –“That isn’t the thing bothering your mind, though, is it?”

Hunk was glad his dad’s still strong voice had been lowered and softened the most the old god could have.

-“No…”- He quietly admitted, gaze cast low. Heavily, Hunk sighed – feeling, as he inhaled, the burning smell of sulfur in his nostrils. Probably shouldn’t take a deep breath in a room full of hot boiling lava, to be honest. –“I think that… I guess after the _incident I told you about_ happened, in the academy… I, well, started thinking…”

Reluctantly, not sure if this was the place to go on with his rant, Hunk looked up at his father, looking for any sign that would give away the god’s disposition towards the situation.

Fortunately, he was met with a soft, open look on his dad’s face, as the old god nodded to him to continue.

Feeling a little more comfortable about how he was probably gonna spew his feelings right in the open, Hunk began.

-“Okay, so, like… All my life I’ve been… trying to advocate for peace, right? And I still stand by that, like, that’s _still_ my main method of approaching things, but what if… What if the day comes that they - _whoever they are_ – won’t listen to my reasoning? What if I’ll have to fight… to protect my friends? _Underworld_ , to protect anyone who needs help!”

Almost painfully, Hunk creased his eyebrows, wrinkling his nose.

-“Then again, I’m not a fighter…”- His small voice faintly admitted. –“… But I feel like… at some point… someone will _need_ me to be. And in one hand, I want to help, but in the other… I don’t know...”- A sigh. –“I can’t keep being this… _this passive_ about things, and _obviously_ that’s gotta change or I know for sure that, like, if one day I don’t act, someone is _really going to get hurt_.”

With a sour twist on his lips added to his expression, eyes shut, Hunk shook his head – trying to also shake that horrifying thought out of his mind.

-“I just don’t know what to do to deal with this crisis right now…”

As Hunk’s rant came to an end, silence fell between both gods. Hunk had no idea what to expect to come next in this exchange, but he sure knew that whatever there was left in his chest – any complaint about Keith or whatever – all just drained down his system.

Because, obviously, this problem wasn’t about Keith, even though his actions had been the triggering factor.

This, this was about _Hunk_ and _him alone_. His personality and lifestyle. No need to bring third parties into this.

After what felt a solid minute left in pure stupor, Hephaestus’ thick eyebrows fell very slowly. –“Son,”- His looming voice instantly willed Hunk to sheepishly look up at him. –“It is true, all what you’ve said. You _are_ reasonable, and diplomatic. _Not_ a warrior.”

A sigh.

That’s what Hunk thought.

Yet, Hephaestus kept talking. –“That is your _essence_ , yes, but that does not mean that you do not get to work on yourself and change - become less passive as you’ve mentioned you wanted - without losing your essence.”

Feeling his eyebrows shoot upwards, and his brown eyes growing wide, Hunk peered at his father, who kept speaking with a tender tone in each and every word.

-“You are thoughtful, my son, and you see reason as clearly as an eagle’s sight. I don’t doubt that even when you try to become a fighter, you won’t let yourself get lost in the process. Neither do I doubt that once that big heart of yours wills you to step up and act, you will do it, regardless of fear or not. You _do_ know what they say about courage, do you not?”

Thoughtfully, Hunk beat his finger by his chin. –“Uhm… That it comes in the ‘ _times of greatest need’_?”

That got a chuckle out of the old god’s lips. –“Indeed that is no lie. _And_ if you fear that you cannot ever improve as a fighter, remember: Practice makes perfect…”- A pause. –“ _Or… almost._ Also, I mean it when I tell you that there will be _many_ breaking points for you.”- That got a groan out of Hunk. –“You’ll doubt yourself and sell yourself short. You’ll wonder if that was really the best decision you’ve made or the worst.”

Hephaestus’ expression fell, as his sight diverted to the side. –“As a father, I’m saddened to say I cannot answer to those questions. _However_ , if I can give you something to go by when they arise, I’ll tell you this:

It is up to _you_ to decide if working on being a warrior was a good decision or not – with a clear head. Follow your gut, most of all, because you’ve _got a good one_ , son. And if the answer you come up with is that it was all worth it, then know that I and everybody else in your life who cares about you, will lend you all our strength to continue and succeed. If it wasn’t, then know you have at least done something and tried.”

Hunk’s vision had been blurring since almost halfway through his father’s speech, and he couldn’t lie how he was trying to hold back sobs. However, as Hephaestus’ words cut to an end, Hunk knew he couldn’t keep it in anymore. Tears were already staining his cheeks, ones he delicately wiped away with his curled fists.

-“I-“ – Though Hunk tried to speak, his voice simply muffled down due to his uneven breathing and sobbing.

With a little fond smile on his face, the larger god huffed before he stepped closer to his son. Gently, he wrapped his large arms around his son’s shoulders and pulled him close, feeling, by his chest, Hunk still shaking from sobbing - an aspect that was already dying down.

-“No need to thank me, my boy.”- Hephaestus spoke in a gentle tone, as the hand he circled around Hunk’s back was equally gentle. –“It is my duty as your father.”

Well… that only made Hunk cry even more. However, it was a happy kind of crying. A sentimental one, that came with a smile growing on Hunk’s face.

Yeah, he still couldn’t talk, he was still trying to stop his sobbing, but he knew he didn’t need to say what he wanted to. To thank his father for his words of encouragement and kindness, as reassuring him that he’d be there whenever Hunk needed him to be.

A bitter part of his mind, a still petty one, reminded him how lucky he had been with his parents. Other people didn’t have the same luck. Some had theirs deceased, while others… Others might as well not have them, as their existence in that person’s life had only brought them sorrow.

Needless to say, Hunk was well aware of the relationship Lance had with his father, and hated the God of the Oceans for that.

However, now was not the time to mentally scold his friend’s father. Instead, Hunk held on tight until, unconsciously, he let his muscles relax, as his sobs died down. A little later, he let his arms, which were around his father’s back, fall to his sides. At the same time, noticing, Hephaestus took a step back.

As Hunk rubbed his knuckle by his eyes, still trying to dry the skin by it, Hephaestus smiled kindly, as he let a large hand of his land on Hunk’s shoulder.

When the god spoke, his voice was rough, filled with emotion as his eyes seemed to shine. –“I am _proud_ of you, Hunk. And I mean it when I say that _your_ presence has made me a better person.”- He took his hand away. –“I don’t doubt you’ll be great – even more than you already are.”

Sniffing, Hunk couldn’t do anything else but to smile and nod. He tried to open his mouth to say something back to his dad, but his voice came out as a wordless rasp.

At the same time, Hephaestus decided to give him space. He turned back to the anvil, where the mace still rested, and picked up his hammer. In no time, his focus was back on forging.

And Hunk… As he willed his emotions to calm down in his heart, he noticed the smile on his face never left.

Maybe Hunk could be more than the mediocre fighter he had accepted himself to be for a long, long while.

It was time to change things around.

 

 

…

 

 

-“She _still_ hasn’t come back?? But it’s my last day home!”

With a sound alike a mix of a whine and a groan, Lance let his head fall flat on his arms, which were resting on the table he was seated by.

His mother’s estate, truly, it was something quite modest compared to Poseidon’s castle. If he were going to be honest, calling it an ‘estate’ was already pushing it. And yet, Lance felt like the smaller the rooms were, the cozier they were, in comparison to the castle’s large yet freezing cold rooms.

Mostly, he noted, that cold was amplified by his senses, as that was the feeling he had associated with the castle.

Ironic, he thought, a god of ice – if that were to be his title – preferring warmth to coldness. Perhaps the title he’d get to associate with his godly name would change when he was to earn said name. Until then, ‘Lance, God of Ice’ had to do.

From across the table, his mother was the only one in the room – certainly not the only in the house besides him, because Lance could hear pretty well running and screaming from his nieces in the other room.

Regarding his whine, she eyed him with a saddened expression. It was one Lance was too used to see on the sweet lady’s face, one that he used to hate to have caused on her.

-“I’m sorry, my Star.”

Lance let a rush of air escape his nose, sounding alike a brief chuckle, as a small smile took over his lips.

When he was little, that was his nickname his mother had given him – her little _starfish_. And Lance, he _loved_ it as a child - being called a star of the ocean, paralleling the ones above the waves, in the sky.

Having said that, a nickname like that didn’t fit him anymore when he became a teenager. As to any teen, that childhood name started to sound, well, a _little_ ridiculous. When he had – quite hesitantly to not sadden his mom – told her that he didn’t want to be called that anymore, they both came to the conclusion that using ‘ _Star_ ’ for short would sound better.

His mother continued then, a smile catching on her features as her equally blue eyes observed his amused face. –“ _But_ on a brighter side, you could head out on an adventure with your nieces!”

It was almost comical how just as she had mentioned the little angel-demons, they heard the kiddos scream playfully in the other room, as a loud thud followed. And then more running and laughing.

Gazing to his left, to a doorway that lead to the living area, Lance could catch glances of the kids running around with pillows. He noted they seemed fine, as they kept playing, so he didn’t need to go to that room to check on them.

Shaking his head, Lance glanced back to his mom, as he picked up the bitten apple he had been munching on before his dramatic question about his sister.

-“You mean like I’ve done every single day I’ve been here?”- A smirk appeared on his face just before he took another bite on the apple.

His mom only shrugged nonchalantly. –“They _do_ love their adventures with their uncle…”

-“And I love them, too.”- Lance fondly admitted as he sneaked a glance at the doorway, just in time to watch both kids’ pillows smash against one another in a _fierce_ battle – for ten-centuries old, that is. –“ _But_ I think I need this day alone.”- With furrowed eyebrows, he peered at his mother. –“Maybe just the morning. I need to…”

-“I know,”- She immediately reassured, before he’d get lost in thought or rambling. –“you need your space. And I understand. But when you’re done out there, in the world, come back to us- come back to _me_.”- It seemed almost impossible for her voice to soften more, yet, it did. –“I need to know if you’re alright.”

Hearing those words, Lance couldn’t deny the large fond look on his face, adorned with a smile as genuine as it’d get.

Doubts and insecurities, they were a constant in Lance’s mind. Most of his memories were stained with those feelings, even if subtly. It was, again, quite striking how someone could be both impressively confident, and yet, equally as insecure.

However, if there was one thing Lance knew for certain, with no margin of doubt, was that he was sure he hadn’t fallen into a bottomless pit of bad morality and bad decisions only because of his mother – and his sister, but that was another story.

This sweet lady, with a heart of something more precious than gold and a fire more scorching than lava, had been there for him through everything. The love he hadn’t gotten from his father, his mother had made up for it by giving him double of her own.

Giving someone love and trust, especially to a child or teen, could pretty much be the turning point for them. It could determine their lifepath, their future and destiny. Decisions, not only theirs, but of others around him.

And Lance, his heart was as bright as it was because of his mother’s influence during his growth. And his sister’s. As well as Allura’s, and Hunk’s and Pidge’s. Of idols of his he intended to follow due to pure, raw admiration – and an example of that had been a legendary commander. Commander Shirogane, they had called him.

Still, back on the topic at hand, the important thing was: Lance loved his mother because of how much she did for him. Because how she had always loved him – unconditionally.

-“I know, mom.”

Just as he voiced his faint reply, he placed the apple on his plate, and got up from his stool. He circled the table to reach his mom, and as he approached, she also got up from hers.

In a second, his arms slid over her shoulders naturally, as they had many times before, and her arms circled his waist, bringing him to her tightly.

-“Love you.”- Lance managed to say by her ear, even though it had been muffled and said in a faint tone.

Heartbeats – peaceful ones – passed as both just stood there, comfortably, gently, holding each other, until his mother slid away. Yet, she didn’t let go of him, as she placed her hands on his shoulders, and steadied him at arms-length.

-“I love you, too, my Star.”- There was a fondness in the blue of her eyes that made it seem like they were glowing. A smile grew on her lips just then. –“Now,”- Lightly, she nodded behind him, to another door further from them. The entry of the house. –“go. Have fun.”

As her hands fell from his shoulders, Lance smiled brightly, one that lit up her mother’s heart with joy and pride. Quickly – and also kind of clumsily – he reached over the table for his apple, almost knocked his plate down the table in the process, and winced when he realized that.

Yet, his smile was back just as soon as he realized he was good.

-“I’ll try!”

Just as he spoke, the apple was on his mouth, as he waved and turned around towards the door all in the same second. He chuckled as he heard his mom’s call out her usual ‘ _and don’t get into any trouble!_ ’

With a soft thud behind his back, Lance felt the door of his mom’s estate close, and just like that, he was met with the morning’s seaside breeze. It was gentle, yet cold, but not in an uncomfortable way. It smelled like algae and salt water – fitting, regarding the scenery he was met with.

His mother’s house was placed on top of a rock cluster in the middle of the ocean, as many proprieties were built in the Oceans Realm. Just taking a step forward, his feet left the humanized floor which was clearly built, and landed on the dark grey natural rock.

Beyond the rock, where it dropped off into the sea for two or three meters, water was all there was. In the distance, Lance could see some clusters alike this one, where others lived their lives. If he squinted, in the horizon, he could see the shape of Poseidon’s castle, being its tallest tower the quirk that made it stand out.

Biting deeper into the apple he already had on his mouth, Lance held it as he munched on his bite. That lasted a solid half of a second, before he swallowed his bite – maybe a bit too early – and bit into his apple again.

Right away, along with all his senses being overloaded – in a good way – by the ocean’s aspects and feelings, Lance felt his feet moving. In an instant, he was airborne, before water embraced him into its depths.

After the familiar splash, Lance idly floated underwater, as he took the apple from his mouth and chewed on another bite. In his mind, he noted, maybe a sweet apple and salt water weren’t really the best combination of flavors – but then again, he kind of didn’t really care. And went for another bite.

It was reluctantly that he realized he had no place to put the piece that was left of the apple – _he wasn’t just going to eat its middle_ – so he swam upward, breaking the water’s surface, and sheepishly put the leftover apple on a rock cluster by his home. He’ll hopefully remember to get it back when he was back home.

-“Remember the apple, remember the apple, _remember the apple_ -“

Hopefully that chant he was trying to put into his mind was going to stick.

As a breeze took over his now wet skin, Lance felt a shiver running down his spine, so, with no hint of hesitation, he dived back into the depths.

It was still sunny that day, as per usual, and a consequence of that was that the water, closer to the surface looked like a teal tone.

Its light also let his eyes spot the usual creatures he’d find easier – like the casual shoals he’d find in the arena, of either fish whose color was a simple grey, or some that seemed as though they wore a rainbow on their scales.

No matter how small the creatures were – like a tiny blue and orange fish that was the size of Lance’s pinky – or how large – like a whale Lance spotted far away – he always wore a toothy smile as he watched them.

A silly sight, but then again, who was there to judge? Nobody.

As happy memories played on his mind, of his mom’s love and care, and even some of his sister’s, he found himself losing track of time, or even where he was. Then again, he knew these oceans like the back of his hand – he checked his hand to see that he was right – and, yep, he was.

Looking around himself, he knew where he was.

With a happy smile, he recognized this place as the one where his friendly sharks used to be at. Hey, maybe he would get to see Sharptooth again. Which made a little childishly happy smile come to his face.

But when he swam to the place he knew was it – he didn’t find anything there.

_Huh, okay…_

As Lance spun around the place, all he spotted were various sunrays seeping into the water, trembling as the water swayed, its light showing glowing particles that otherwise would have gone unnoticed.

All around him, Lance could only see water, and even below, if he squinted, he could make out the shape of the bottom of that area. Still, there was no sight of his sharks anywhere near. In fact, Lance hardly saw any critter. Only what he recognized to be a clownfish that had nervously swum from an anemone to a crack on a rock, slipping into darkness.

-“That’s… kinda concerning…”

Then again, Lance was always anxious. Okay, maybe not as anxious as Hunk was known to be, because, let’s be honest, Hunk’s entire demeanor was the definition of anxiety. Still, that didn’t mean that Lance couldn’t feel the same thing, even if in a lighter version from Hunk’s.

So, maybe, that’s all that Lance was feeling at that moment. There was nothing wrong with that empty place in the ocean, his mind was just on edge. And his anxiety amplified his senses, making him hyper aware of everything, even the way the waves were swaying.

In the end of the day, he guessed that his friends just didn’t happen to be in that place that one time. Sharks wouldn’t always be in the same place all the time, Lance had found them in different areas plenty of times.

Yeah… Nothing really was wrong. He was just making this all up in his head.

Or…

Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe, just maybe, that heavy sensation in his gut that he was feeling was worthy of his concern. That clownfish didn’t swim nervously for nothing – even if, hey, they were pretty nervous creatures.

But it couldn’t be Lance’s presence scaring the critters away. As a descendant from the God of the Oceans, he was like another molecule that was part of the ocean. Creatures would hardly fear his presence, unless they would see him doing something harsh, which he never did. Not to these creatures, not to anything, really.

All he’d get would be respect from most creatures, but respect didn’t equal fear. It never did.

That heavy tension he felt in the air – or rather, in the waves – it wasn’t something he was causing. It wasn’t something he was making up, either, he concluded. Even though his anxiety was probably just amplifying it.

The startling thing, was, when Lance managed to connect what this feeling was with a description made of words, he felt himself go pale.

Because this was the same feeling he had felt, as a little child, when in that one cursed afternoon he had stumbled upon a cave and had found that not-so-sleeping hydra.

Was this… it? _The_ hydra? Or _a_ hydra, even?

Those were rare, especially underwater. However, a presence of one would explain the negative aura around this area. It was a powerful creature, one of wild instincts, and an untamable spirit. The raw might of said creature was hardly surpassed by any other underwater beasts, perhaps only outmatched by sea serpents of colossal sizes, or a special megalodon tale told was larger than Poseidon’s castle itself.

Or the Kraken.

_Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about scary beasts while my heart is beating so much. -_ Lance thought _. - Can a god, theoretically, die of a heart attack? Oh gods… Nope! Not thinking about that. Just… Focus._

Though he felt his body was as frozen – with fear – as it could get, Lance started to will his mind to react. Logic screamed at him to _move_ , to just swim away _._

Yet… he didn’t. He couldn’t get his arms or legs to move. He felt his fingers twitching amongst the water, but that didn’t even get him anywhere.

Taking a deep breath, he felt salt water invade his lungs, causing nothing to him but a little itch as it had been too sudden.

Gods _, come on_! Seriously? Was he _this_ ridiculous?

It was just a creature of the sea – he had _power_ over _them_. He was a _Poseidon’s child_!

Then why couldn’t he _act_ like one?! Why couldn’t he _feel_ like one?! He was just a coward – a _pretender_.

_No wonder Poseidon didn’t respect him._

The darkness surrounding the place shifted just as that raging thought stormed Lance’s mind.

Blinking, ripping his mind out of that storm of cruel thoughs, Lance settled his gaze back to reality – bitterly noting it was the only part of his body that dared to move, still.

He could shoot his bow underwater like if he were on land. Maybe he could summon it – again – if he wasn’t frozen like an idiot.

The water that enveloped him, Lance felt, was shifting in little waves just like the shadow he saw before him. And that movement from something that he couldn’t see still, that probably was still far from him, made his stomach clench.

This thing was _big._

_Hydra-like big._

And then, he saw it.

A shadow – a gigantic one – moving – _slithering_ towards him. He winced when he drew in a sharp breath from between his teeth and salt water came storming into his mouth. But he didn’t mind that – because right at that moment, his brain was shutting down.

And his body, the first time in what seemed like ages, complied to his mind’s only words. A shouting chant of continuous ‘move, move, _move’_!

With an abrupt jerk of his right hand, the water around it chilled down, until his frost stained the pure blue, and his bow – _his bow!_ – was right there. In his hand.

-“Okay, Hydra.”- Lance mumbled, as he felt his eyebrows crease, his teeth clenching. –“If it’s a rematch you want…”- He drew his bow in front of himself, still feeling shills running all over his frightened body. –“ _You’ll get it_.”

Silently panicking, not even knowing how he was able to breathe, Lance held the string with his other hand, an arrow magically notching, and looking forward – _oh no, that slithering thing was getting closer._

-“No.”- Lance told himself in a quiet yet firm whisper. –“ _You can do this_. You don’t need her,” – His sister. –“or dad, or anyone else. You’re just a great as them. Just as great…”

Lance didn’t believe it whole-heartedly, but for now, it would do. It was enough to boost his confidence, enough to get him ready to at least fight. Maybe just for a bit.

Releasing a deep steadying breath, Lance aimed. It was time to face one of his childhood traumas.

And he waited. Arrow ready.

The creature’s eyes were the first thing that he saw.

If this was only one of its heads – then Lance couldn’t even imagine how big it was. It was way bigger than the hydra he remembered from his childhood. In the distance, he could see two glowing yellow orbs, that were directed – at least it felt – right at him.

Until the features of its head became clear.

Its muzzle was slim, yet the creature’s head was the double or triple of Lance’s own height. Its hypnotic eyes were under an accentuated furrow that looked like eyebrows – yet they were just the creature’s bone structure. Two slim yet long whiskers came from its nose, white compared to its royal blue and grey-steel coloration.

It almost reminded Lance of a dragon’s head.

And when his eyes fully saw the creature’s body and its slithering tail closer and closer, his eyes widened.

_Wait a minute. –_ Lance thought. _– This… this isn’t a hydra._

Lance squinted his eyes before they blew open again, as he gaped.

Because right before him, Lance was staring right back at the first sea serpent he had ever laid his eyes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the smallest chapter I've written so far, especially since I see it as a transition chapter that had to be added for the sake of the flow of the story making sense, but I hope it gave more insight to the characters and their struggles and future arcs or the ones that are already starting/happening. 
> 
> Next chapter, we'll see the outcome of this last scene, classes begin once again, we'll get more insight from Shiro's past and Allura has a new problem to deal with.
> 
> Well, hasta la later my dudes


	4. Making Friends Isn't Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you're having a great day.
> 
> Anyway, I was actually planning on posting this chapter last friday, but since it was She-ra day, I opted to not publish it since, well, many of us had our mind full of She-ra and not VLD, including me. Either way, it's here, and I hope you like it, as always.
> 
> Before you start, I'd like to warn you there's a fight scene, that begins on "Shiro had nothing but a brittle sword in his hand." and only ends in the end of that scene. Just, warning for trigger's sake, I guess.

His eyes weren’t deceiving him.

Lance could have blinked as much as he wanted, but the sea serpent’s colossal figure was still floating before him – no matter how many times he had let his mind convince him that it was just a dream, that he’d wake up eventually.

With the creature idly floating in front of him, Lance could see, with the little sun rays that reached this deep, the creature’s color pattern – its underbelly was metal grey, as its sides were royal blue. Its spikes and bits of skin joining those on its back were of a darker tone, while its scaly skin almost seemed that it shone with the sun’s rays, reflecting them.

Lance had not realized how much time he had spent there, staring at this creature, eyes completely blown wide – but only at that moment he was almost sure that the now idle creature was not going to make a move at him.

Even though Lance wasn’t going to make the classic mistake of letting his guard down. No sir-e.

Subconsciously, he let his arms slowly relax, as he lowered down his bow. A cautious tone was plastered in his gaze, as he raised an eyebrow. He felt his hands on his bow tremble, but there was nothing he could do about that, only if he was to take a shot.

Still, he tried to muffle that out, making the least movement possible. His logic wasn’t going for the stereotypical ‘ _if you don’t move, it can’t see you’_ , because Lance was pretty sure it _could_ see him – its eyes were literally locked _on_ _him_.

Instead, he was going with the assumption that, if he made any sudden movement, he knew that could be the trigger for the creature to move. Either away, or defensively lashing out.

And considering his luck, it was probably the latter.

Yet, the big lazy snake wasn’t doing _anything_. It was just… ominously staring at his eyes, almost through his soul.

It was, undeniably, a very weird encounter, he noted.

Sadly, this was his reality as of the moment: Lance couldn’t move. It wasn’t attacking him either, but the sea serpent didn’t really make it clear that he could let his guard down. It probably wasn’t moving anytime soon, either… So… Lance had to come up with something to get out of this situation.

And what did he come up with? Well…

Lance was going to use the only thing that he knew was at his advantage at this stage – _his charm_.

-“ _So_ …”- He tried to muse, voice a little shaky and high-pitched with, well, _fright._ Noticing the serpent hadn’t lunged at him with its huge mouth open yet, he continued. –“… Aren’t you, like… gonna try to eat me alive? _No_? Not even _a little bit_ …?”- Hey, humor was also charming.

He got no answer either way.

Lance quirked his eyebrow.

_Huh._

In a more relaxed manner, Lance completely lowered his bow, when he noticed his voice wasn’t startling the creature. He felt his posture relax, too, until a stupid playful grin came to his lips.

-“ _Come here often_?”

That earned a slow blink from the serpent.

A little whine left Lance, as he lightly pouted. –“For the gods’ sake!”- He put his hand over his heart briefly. –“I’m a Poseidon kid, you know that, right? I can understand you if you’d let me.”- Observing that his pleading hadn’t worked, in a second, Lance crossed his arms, his bow hanging in between almost uncomfortably, as a petty expression took over his features. –“But _someone_ is making a _big deal_ of being an _ominous scary serpent_.”

After his grumbling, he felt a lighter energy radiating from the critter, as, metaphorically, the darkness that seemed so heavy before the serpent had even revealed itself to Lance, was quickly vanishing. As was Lance’s fear. Even though his nerves were still lingering.

And not because he was anxious. But because this snake _wasn’t answering to him._

With an excruciated groan, Lance let his head hang back, his bow disappearing in his arms.

-“Oh, come _on_!”- He peered forward again, as he extended, briefly, both his arms to his sides. –“I’m in the brink of having a mental breakdown over here!!

First off, my dad acts like I don’t exist – which is fine, it’s the usual! Then I come home from holiday after some completely scarring _two days_ since the Underworld got a kid in our academy to mess stuff up – must have been a freaking _record_ for him. And, now, surprise! The big sister I completely _idolize_ isn’t home and I was expecting her to hang out with me! Leaving me to idle these oceans alone until I thought I was gonna get my butt handed to me by a hydra – _childhood trauma_ – and now _you_ are here and aren’t reacting to me!”

-“ _Am I literally that invisible_?!?”

Truth be told, Lance wasn’t expecting his own outburst, and just as the shout came out of his mouth, he physically withdrew. As he placed a hand over his mouth, he let his gaze roam the creature’s expression, being sure that it was probably getting upset – perhaps in the brink of lashing out at him.

It didn’t, though. Instead, once more, it slowly blinked at him, its hypnotizing eyes looking more like two comforting blubs, now. If Lance squinted, maybe he could even see its soul – its way of being – in its eyes.

It took Lance a second to realize, but its lips – _did it even have lips? –_ parted, just slightly, not even showing teeth which, Lance could only imagine, were _very_ big and sharp. Instead, the tides brought a sound to his ears, one that he felt the rumbling of, coming from the critter’s throat.

Bewilderment replaced Lance’s concerned expression, as a word came to his mind.

That word… It wasn’t his. He hadn’t thought it, he realized. It came from a voiceless whisper, like if it had always belonged in his mind, even though Lance knew it hadn’t.

This was the sea serpent’s voice.

_‘Friend.’_

As confusion flushed Lance’s mind, he thought he was almost going to cross his eyes had he not realized and corrected it. For three heartbeats, Lance stayed there, with his eyebrows furrowed and mouth completely slack – because he had never heard a creature’s words before. He had only felt what he knew they meant.

This felt different… somehow. It felt _clearer_.

-“A…”

Abruptly, Lance shook his head, and his almost frozen demeanor was replaced by frantic snapping.

-“What?! No! I’m _not_ your frigging, friend – _I’m your lunch_!”- Lance opened his mouth and largely inhaled from it, as he held a finger in the air. However, he paused midway, his previous bite dying down as confusion settled in again.

–“Hold up… Am I your lunch?”- He raised an eyebrow at the critter, before he lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. –“To be honest, my brain isn’t making any sense anymore I’m just basically on the defensive here – and now I’m rambling.”- He crossed his arms and leaned his head back. –“ _great_.”- He said, as a groan.

_‘No.’ - The_ creature insisted. – _‘Friend.’_

Still in the same previous position, Lance squinted his eyes at it. –“ _Okay…”_

Alright, let’s access the situation.

So, this probably deadly sea serpent was acting like a Labrador Retriever to him. That was insanely strange – especially considering how sea serpents were literally the biggest pain in Poseidon’s butt. Dealing with them got the old god so many scars Lance had to admit it, he was always surprised when Poseidon had survived an encounter with one of these.

And now, this colossal sea serpent was talking to Lance. More than sparing him – it was calling him a friend?!

Mentally chuckling, Lance could only imagine his friend’s reactions to this.

Hunk would probably be losing his _mind_ , dwelling on the dilemma of ‘should he make a run – or, better, swim – for it, or should he stay still and hope that it would just go away’, friend or not? He probably wouldn’t trust this creature. That was just Hunk’s nature.

Pidge, on the other hand, would probably get the overwhelming feeling of ‘ _I **need** to touch it, even knowing fully well how it can bite my arm off’_. And proceed to do just so, as Hunk would screech in the background.

Physically, Lance couldn’t help but to laugh as he imagined that scenario, but he did place a hand over his mouth, out of respect for the creature’s presence.

There was, however, only one question left, and it was probably the most important one, which was:

But what would _Lance_ do?

Shrugging, he decided that he already had the answer.

There had been weirder days, Lance thought, so honestly, he was just gonna roll with it.

-“If you wanna be my friend… sure. I’ll take it.”- Casually, he leaned back, a grin appearing on his face. –“A friend needs a name, though. I’m _Lance_ – Son of Oceans and all that – but you already knew that.”- A wink. –“And You are…?”

A name flared through his mind.

_‘Galazios.’_

-“Galazios as in… light blue?”

A positive aura oozed off the creature.

Lance quirked an eyebrow at it, curiously. –“Right… _Galazios_ … _If_ you don’t mind, I’ll just call you Blue – cuz you know, I thought it’d be a fitting nickname and all.” - With a smile on his lips, Lance shrugged.

_‘Blue.’_

He heard the creature’s words in his mind wonder.

_‘I like.’_

That unexpected usage of grammar made Lance scoff amusedly. –“I’m glad you like it, buddy.”

Well, this had surely been a really peculiar encounter. One that Lance wasn’t even sure what to make of just yet. However, it wasn’t like there had been anything else he could do, because, after a while, just as the sea serpent had appeared, it vanished in the midst of the dark depths of the ocean.

 

…

 

 

Shiro’s chambers – Keith noted – were way bigger than Keith’s tiny cubicle of a room, and looked way fancier, if at that. His mentor’s temporary house was built of that bright marble that most buildings of this realm shared in common, and had quite a lot of details alike paintings and tapestry in gold and black.

There was a living room right as they walked in, and his own kitchen. The whole place looked brighter than anything Keith was used to see, with those lush real plants resting all over the place. Who knew Shiro was so good at keeping them all well and thriving?

At the moment, Keith was sitting on the white/pearl couch, its pattern consisting on that fancy diamond in which its edges were pinned back by a button. He was leaning down, looking at this brown leather backpack Shiro was able to obtain for him, as well as some materials for class, like notebooks, a quill and a bit of charcoal.

Keith was sure he’d use these materials less to take notes and more to drawn when he’d feel like he was getting bored.

-“Okay,”

Shiro’s voice was quickly followed by the noise of a chair briefly dragging itself across the floor onto its desired place. Looking to his left, Keith saw his mentor getting up from the table both of them and Slav had had breakfast on. Shiro himself was still holding a mug of coffee on his flesh hand.

When Shiro arrived by the arm of the couch, the opposite side of where Keith was, he continued his speech. -“No need to be nervous, you’re just gonna get a fresh start.”- He took a last sip of the mug, settling it down by the couch right after. –“You know what you’re doing – _mostly_ – and Coran’s gonna be there for you.”- Suspiciously, what seemed to be a smirk appeared on Shiro’s lips. –“Besides, your _fellow associates_ will also be there-“

-“Can we collectively agree to _stop_ calling my classmates that?”

Regarding the grumpy answer, the entirety of Shiro’s broad figure seemed to slump. A pout appeared on his face, one that, as it was so exaggerated, was seemingly fake and playful. –“ _But where’s the fun in that?”_

Keith raised an eyebrow at that, in a way that made Shiro feel wary. The way the younger god’s lips were starting to quirk up were also not making him feel any less unsettled either…

-“Hm… So, you sure you’re making that, that conscious decision, _huh_? Hmm. Okay.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes at Keith, not really understanding where he was going with this, which only made the look on his face seem more suspicious. And that only grew when Keith quickly jolted up from the couch and-

-“ _HEY, SLAV-!”_

-“ _NO!”_

No matter how fast Shiro had lunged towards this _demon of a student_ of his and frantically placed his hand over his student’s mouth, he saw that his efforts fell short.

Much to his dismay, he saw his familiar in front of them, his tiny lizard head poking out of Shiro’s semi-open bedroom door. Surprisingly, Slav had grown accustomed to their antics, and somehow, there was no fright in his demeanor, only casualness.

–“Yes?”

Grinning, Keith’s almost glowing eyes settled on the tiny dragon, and he pushed Shiro’s face – by smacking his cheek – and hand away from him, who kept trying to get him to shut up. –“Hey! Shiro said – _stop it Shiro, don’t fight it!_ – He- he said he was gonna be so bored this afternoon, so he’d _love_ to hear about your theory of multiple realities again!”

If Shiro had a soul, he was sure it was already fluttering away above his head and into the atmosphere. His distraught, gaping expression settled on his familiar, who seemed completely oblivious to how much of a horrid proposition Keith had just thrown at him.

-“No,”- Shiro began, his tone a little rushed. –“I-I didn’t say that, that wasn’t something that came out of my mouth-“

Unsurprisingly, Slav spoke over him, excitement already eminent in his voice. –“Oh! I would be thrilled to do so in _most realities_! I’ll crack on with organizing my thoughts right away! Oh, _so_ many arguments I’ve got to arrange before speaking-!“- And he continued to ramble as he disappeared into Shiro’s room again.

In the meantime, still in the living room, Keith had crossed his arms and smirked as he, peering to his left, watched Shiro go through the seven stages of grief.

-“… I hate this.”- Grumbled Shiro, as a sigh.

That got Keith to laugh, just lightly, for a bit, before he sat down again, his attention settling back on the backpack he was stuffing with his new things. –“And _that’s_ what you get for messing with me.”

Already with a smile on his face, Shiro crossed his arms as he shook his head. –“Alright, alright. Now, jokes aside, how’re you feeling?”

A second or two were spent in silence, as Keith got the last thing packed, closed it, and only answered as he was getting up, swinging the backpack over one shoulder. Keith shrugged, his tone, now, lower, more serious than before. –“Could’ve been worse. I could be almost dying coming out of an arena. So, I guess not so bad. Nervous – kinda.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow at that as he tilted his head. –“Nervous…”

-“Yeah, you know, they _did_ see me murder a jackass.”

-“Which is…”

-“Which is wrong, okay, _I got it_ , Shiro.”

Towards the seemingly grumpy yet honest answer, Shiro smiled, as he let his crossed arms fall to each side of his waist.

-“Just making sure.”- Briefly, Shiro gestured towards his student. –“But hey, you know, it’s fine that you’re nervous. It’s a feeling many beings feel many times in their lives. The first time I went to school, I felt so nervous I walked into class, tripped on this thing – I think it was a stick or a broom? – that was by the door and fell right into a classmate’s back. And he was holding a jar of water he was drinking and… long story short… We both ended up _soaked.”_

As Shiro groaned, he let his head fall back as he placed his hand above his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. It looked just like this tiny little thing was still embarrassing to him. –“And he was cute, too, which made it even _worse.”_

With a puzzled yet amused expression, Keith scoffed. –“Okay, I’ll, uhh, keep my eye out for a broom by a door?”

-“You laugh now, but to my teen self it was _the worst day in his life.”_ \- Shiro even cared to demonstrate his point by wearing the most overly-dramatic facial expression – accompanied with its own dramatic pose – that Keith has ever seen his mentor do.

Because of that, Keith scoffed again, a smile on his lips as he shook his head. This was a thing about Shiro that drew him in. That, even as his mentor, Shiro had the possibility to be as formal and distant as Thace had been, for example, but that wasn’t the case. At all. Instead, Shiro cared to show Keith time and time again that it was normal to be expressive.

No laugh was muffled, nor he dared to hold back when his tired eyes glinted as he clearly thought of a dad joke to utter. This, this didn’t come with any of that stiffness and formality Keith had been used to endure in the Underworld.

This was casual and laid back, and that encouraged Keith to come out of his shell more, too – hence why he had felt comfortable to pull that Slav card out of his pocket to spite Shiro – playfully, and all in good fun. He knew Shiro didn’t actually mind Slav’s shenanigans as much as he would dramatically let on.

It was this lighthearted playfulness, and honesty, and the snark and Shiro’s tired dad sighs that made this… Their sort of new relationship, feel almost… _familial_?

-“Alright.”- As he spoke, Keith nodded towards the front door. –“I’ll see you later. Thanks, Shiro.”

There was a timid look in his eyes as he glanced back to Shiro, one where he was clearly questioning himself, about whether or not he should voice whatever it was that his indigo eyes were screaming to express.

After two or three seconds of silently mulling over it, Keith’s quiet voice had spoken into the room.

-“You know… You’re the coolest mentor I’ve ever had.”

That got Shiro by surprise, certainly, since his well-defined eyebrows shot up in the air, especially its edges, as he gaped. However – _damnit, there it was again_ – a glint appeared in his eyes and before Keith could even know it, there was Shiro’s sense of humor again.

-“I _do_ like to think of myself as how you kids call ‘ _cool_ ’. Maybe I could be like, a ‘ _cool uncle’_ -“

-“Don’t ruin it.”

Cutting himself off, Shiro gestured as if he used a key to lock his mouth shut. –“Point taken. I really appreciate that, though.”- That got his student to smile, truthfully, before he turned his back to walk towards the exit. –“Oh, also, Keith?”

Already by the door, Keith glanced over his shoulder.

-“Why won’t you take that hood off your head?”- He crossed his arms. –“I mean, if you feel comfortable to. It’d make you seem friendlier.”

That proposition, however, only made Keith roll his eyes as he quietly groaned. –“I said _thanks, Shiro.”_

The loud bang of the door as Keith slammed it when he left had Shiro jumping, only slightly, before he laughed as he shook his head. Gods, he really did have to deal with yet another angsty teen. Well… _young adult_. Same thing, right? In spirit, at least. Less so in responsibilities, and Shiro knew just how much weight was on this kid’s shoulders right now.

But, hey, Keith surely was a handful, that much was obvious, however… Shiro wasn’t one to give up on people, no matter how difficult they tried to be.

However, Shiro reminded himself to take a mental note of a joke he’d probably use the next, most opportune time – one about Keith being one of the reasons why his hair was going white.

 

 

…

 

 

Alright. This was totally under control, right? Keith was just coming back… To his regular duties, after ten days off. Honestly, he preferred the academy the way it had been then. Less people in it, more spaces for him to feel peaceful in, and no classes in sight. Instead, the only responsibilities he had were his role as a new diplomat from the Underworld – which, technically, hadn’t even started yet – carrying out his sentence of community service for an entire century, and attending to Shiro’s lessons of philosophy and morale, and history and all those shenanigans.

Yet… here he was, kids whispering and sending him looks anywhere he passed. Some actual kids – probably ten-century-olds – had looked at him strangely before they ran off, some of them screaming – not in panic, just those kid-like playful screams.

Right, well, this was… pleasant. In the sense that it was _completely horrible_.

_‘But…’ -_ A part of his mind pointed out. – ‘ _Less horrible than the Underworld, somehow…’_

Keith stopped in his tracks as he frowned at himself.

_‘Okay,’ -_ He thought back. _– ‘thanks for the unwanted opinion.’_

That was when Keith noticed, just as he mentally cussed himself out for daring to question the Underworld and its principals, that he was standing just in front of the building he was going to have classes in.

Which, earned a sigh from him, as he lowered his head.

Keith hated to admit it – again, as he found out over the course of the last ten days – but maybe Shiro was right – as he apparently was about _anything_ , which shouldn’t really surprise Keith since Shiro’s title was _God of Wisdom_. But… Maybe taking off that hood that moodily lit his face in shadows would make him seem a little more… friendly?

Well, at least it was probably gonna stop kids from running away screaming.

_… Maybe._

Grimacing, Keith engaged on a mental debate over whether he should take off that ominous hood and make himself seem more approachable, or at least friendly; or, if he would ignore Shiro’s advice, and go with the voice in his head pleading him to not take off the one thing that was somehow protecting him from the eyes of the crowds.

It was with a grave expression, as he sighed through his gritted teeth, that Keith willed his hands to reach up, until each one held onto each side of his hood. Reluctantly, he allowed them to gently slip it off, as in the process, his wild dark hair was unraveled to the sun.

The warmth of it, even under his now a little subtler eyebags – since this week he had actually gotten some rest, unlike how it was in the Underworld – was still a little foreign to Keith’s skin. However, now, he didn’t feel like he was burning under the sun like if he was a vampire. Instead, _yes_ , it was still a little stingy, but somehow, it was bearable.

Borderline sort of comfortable.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Keith kept on walking forward, heading towards the one classroom he was sure was the one…

_Oh, gods_ , he _hoped_ it was, because walking into the wrong classroom was probably up there in the list of most embarrassing things that can happen.

However, before he could let his nervous thoughts run wild in his head, a voice in his own mind told him to cut it off. It ordered him to keep going, because, honestly? _So what_ if he walked into the wrong classroom and got a reaction that would bring him embarrassment? Akira? He never cared about anything anyone had ever said about him, no matter how negative.

_‘… Right?’_

Keith frowned at that word of doubt. It was not welcome in the slightest.

_‘Right.’ –_ He firmly answered. _– ‘Of course.’_

Yet, he felt himself worrying about his classmate’s reaction to him, there. Would they just rise and roar like a crowd with pitchforks and torches at him like if he was a monster to a human’s eyes? Well, probably he deserved it.

Doesn’t mean he wanted it to happen.

Coran would never let that happen, though, would he? He was proving to be a cool guy just like Shiro was, besides-

Before Keith could finish that thought, he noticed he had arrived at the doorstep of the classroom. He checked the number on it to see if it was right and, yeah, that’s the number he remembered.

Okay. Shiro was right, it was normal to be nervous – and maybe Keith should admit to himself that he was, in fact, feeling that way, rather than trying to push it aside. He took a deep breath, hearing Shiro’s reassuring voice in his mind. And when he thought of the story about Shiro’s first day, Keith felt himself subtly smiling.

Looking down, to the doorstep, he let a little huff escape his nose, as a little chuckle. With Shiro’s story on his mind, he checked – just to be sure – if there was anything by the door, anything that could potentially make him trip, but he found nothing. The way was clear.

Feeling silly for even having thought about it, Keith walked towards his classroom.

And yet – suddenly, he felt something rapidly hit his left foot. He felt his body leaning forward – no, _falling forward_ – and yep, there he went.

_Timber_.

Until, almost in the same second, he felt a hand come from the same place that what made him trip - probably a _foot_ \- had come from, and it firmly gripped his upper arm, steadying him.

Feeling his feet on the floor again, with a little gaping expression on his mouth, he found himself at a loss for words – because… _seriously_?!

And then he felt that steady grip leave his arm as laughs ensued. Right then, he felt his expression sharpen into a frown, and whipped his head to his left, and there, he found exactly what – or rather, _who_ – had made him trip.

He watched in disbelief as that person high-fived Pidge, who stood by their left, equally laughing just as much as-

As _Lance_ was.

-“Oh man…”- Said Lance, mid-laugher, as he passed a hand by his eyes. He let himself go for two or three seconds longer, before his bright, playful eyes fell on the absolute fury that were Keith’s sea of indigo daring to turn into darkness. A detail that did not seem to frighten Lance at all. –“Oh look, you’re not _bald_.”- He placed his hands on his waist, gesturing one towards Keith. –“Was starting to think you were and were hiding it with that _mysterious_ hood of yours.”

Feeling his mouth indignantly gaping, Keith uttered a sound that was like a mix of a scoff and a cough. –“Excuse me…?”

-“Don’t worry, you’re excused, from tripping on my foot! C’mon man, these sandals are brand-new.”

-“Are you _kidding me_?!”- Snapped Keith. –“That- that was on purpose!”

From Lance’s shoulder, Pidge leaned forward, frantically waving a hand in front of Keith’s line of sight, earning his attention before any fire could arise. –“Woah, okay, Keith, _easy_. He’s trying his best, promise.”

-“Yeah, _Keith_ ,”- Lance retorted, with a tone not as sincere nor as serious as Pidge’s. –“chill out. I’m in a good mood, and I just thought I’d welcome you back properly.”- Just as he spoke, he turned around, walking over to his seat.

It was true that Keith’s frown was getting lighter, the fury pressing it being replaced by confusion. Crossing his arms, he hesitated, before he followed Pidge, who nodded her head to Lance’s back – an instruction for Keith to follow them.

-“Oh, really?”- Keith deadpanned just as he stopped some steps before the desk where Lance was currently taking a seat by. –“What? No elaborate trap that’d make a bucket full of goo fall on my head or something?”

That got Lance grinning, as a mischievous eyebrow of his lifted to Keith. –“Awh,”- He mused, as he propped both his elbows on top of his desk and placed his chin on top of his united hands. –“how thoughtful, you’re giving me ideas for the next time.~”

Regarding the comeback, Keith scoffed, as he rearranged his crossed arms to feel them even tighter around his chest. –“What’s with _you_ today? You’re acting weirder than last time-“

Lance simply waved a hand dismissively, his posture now turning back to his normal chilled out aura. –“Oh, c’mon, you’re selling me too short, man. Can’t a guy be in a good mood?”

-“Can’t he be in a good mood without _annoying_ someone el-“

-“Okay!”- Pidge’s voice, just in time, interrupted Keith’s grumbling. –“Stopping you guys there.”- She patted the seat of the desk next to hers. –“Hey, Keith, get your butt over here.”

Immediately, allowing his raging mind to distract itself with Pidge’s proposition – which wasn’t hard at all – Keith’s frown completely disintegrated, giving way for confusion to flutter in his eyes. –“Isn’t that spot… taken?”

-“I mean, will they dare to tell you that?”

Well, that was a good point. Shrugging, Keith made his way to her right, placing his bag on top of it, and proceeded to sit down. Keith could hear Pidge’s enthusiastic voice to his side just as he was slipping out the brand-new notebook Shiro had gotten him.

-“Alright! Lance said hello… In his… _own way_ …”- Pidge leaned over on her desk, peering to her left. –“Hunk?”

-“Mm?”

-“Saying hello to Keith, remember?”

Hunk was seated silently by Lance’s left, and he was already there even when they had arrived and each had taken their seats. With seconds of delay upon the request, Hunk, very slowly, started to lean himself forward on the table, until his eyes could meet Keith’s.

And when they did, Keith could only see the hardened darkness on the guy’s eyes, as a completely deadpan expression took over Hunk’s features as he spoke.

-“Hey.”

Just like that, Hunk leaned back on his seat again, leaving both Pidge and Keith watching him with perplexed gazes. After trading a look with Keith, Pidge shook her head as she sighed, having a hand reach under her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose.

-“Okay...”

By Pidge’s left, Keith could even hear Lance quietly chuckling. He tried to not mind it.

Okay, so, what was going on…? Did Keith just walk into one of those alternative universes Slav was always rambling about? Because everything here felt so… _strange_.

There were other people in the room, but they didn’t pay much attention to him other than just to laugh when he tripped and almost fell, and the occasional glances. So, no pitchforks and torches like he was expecting…

Then, his classmates were acting all weird. Other than Pidge, he guessed, she was the one acting the most normal of the three. Because Hunk, apparently, just completely despised him now? And was giving him the silent treatment? _Kinda_? And then Lance… What was even _that_ all about?!

Keith was sure it was only to piss him off. He had to admit it though, even after what he most definitely saw Keith do in that arena, Lance still picked on him.

He was brave, undeniably, even if, in Keith’s eyes, it was in what seemed to be in a stupid way.

Having said that, Keith didn’t have much time to dwell on that matter, as Coran walked ever-so-lively into the room with the rest of the students behind, and started the lesson in a flash of a second. Keith was going to be honest, he even got whiplash with how fast they were now talking about the beginning of the war.

As some late students were rushing into class, Keith’s eyes fell upon one that had stopped, almost frozen, by the door who was completely staring at him. In fact, his eyes had gone to the desk Keith was seating by and, and then, slowly, up to Keith’s face.

Truly, Keith felt kind of bad as he understood that this desk might have belonged to that random guy. Keith, looking at him in the eye still, just sent him a little confused shrug – like, ‘ _man I have no idea why I’m in your seat either, but here I am, I guess’_.

It wasn’t a big deal, though, as the other student had easily found a place to sit on.

 

The thing bothering Keith the most, truly, had been the lesson itself. The beginning of the war.

Because… the events Coran was narrating were, well, Keith could recognize what he was talking about, but… Many important bits of information were all… wrong and mixed up. These were not the things he had learned ever since he was a child until present day. It was all just… wrong.

He couldn’t even notice his frown growing, as he kept on hearing how the Overworldly gods, especially Alfor, were being framed as more than just heroes, but victims.

It made no sense to him, how beings who never ever cared for the Underworld and its natives, who outright have always despised demon-gods like him, were being framed as something other than unrighteous beings.

And the worst, was that everybody around him seemed to believe in this, in this sort of comedic play gone wrong.

Until Coran got to the point of history, where Zarkon had dispatched squadrons of troops to recruit more gods with Underworldly heritage, to enhance his armies. He spoke of the way they took willing and unwilling recruits alike, even if they had to pry them away from their home’s doors. Families were ripped apart, siblings were lost, or love tales, or parents and their children were separated.

And in that moment… He could hear a distant voice in his head, one screaming his godly name, over shouts and yells and grunts and the sound of metal and fire.

‘ _Akira!!’_ – The fleeting voice desperately shouted through pain. –‘ _Run!! Run and don’t look back!’_

Taking in a sharp inhale from his nose, Keith shut his eyes as he lowered his head, thinning his lips shut to stop them from trembling, as the sound of his father’s dying voice fleetingly echoed in his head.

Maybe… Maybe most things Coran was narrating were utterly inaccurate, but this part... Keith knew it was real. He had lived it, even if he tried to forget it every single day. And he remembered, how this had been glazed over at school, as simply a great recruitment, that offered its new soldiers the chance to achieve glory.

But the raw reality? It had been this, what he had just heard in this present class. It was all just pure, selfish cruelty.

And perhaps… There was a tiny moment where Keith wondered, if any other thing Coran had said, had actually a tint of reality.

 

 

…

 

 

School in the Overworld wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was growing on him, even though Keith hated to admit it.

However, if he were going to be honest, Keith wasn’t really sure if what they were learning in class was accurate. Particularly in the subject of the Millennial War. The facts Coran would state and proceed to explain did have many similarities with what Keith had learned about them. Sometimes, the names of the incidents would change, but Keith could connect the dots with what Coran was explaining to the version he had learned in school.

The strange thing was, many facts varied, from what he observed. Some battles that had ensued because of the Underworld’s ‘ _first_ _punch_ ’ had reasons justifying why they had happened that way. Most times, Keith thought of them as reasonable, and valid. However, the version Coran would teach his class would paint those reasons as either unrighteous or outright nonexistent.

Sometimes, it would strike a chord in Keith’s mood, ever since the first time he heard about this in class, because that definitely was not the way he was used to hear about said feat of history. He wouldn’t speak up and correct Coran, though. Maybe the wisest thing was to keep his mouth shut and avoid further consequences.

Besides… He was starting to have a mental crisis about which version was the closest to the truth: the one he had learned since he was a little kid – _the one he took as a fact_ – or the new one that felt like a slap to the face.

Despite of his crisis, Keith was not minding the Overworld at all. Perhaps he could go as far as to admit that he might be growing more and more comfortable in the academy by the day.

With some days passing after his first class, Keith found peacefulness in the starry nights. The Underworld’s sky, it was dark, like if it looked like a mix of a burning forest without the fire, and pollution. The nights were as dark as they could get, if it weren’t for the purple light emitting from the constant cracks on the ground.

Stars – Shiro had told him that was what they were called – were something Keith had never seen before. Somehow, it made the silent night feel less melancholic than it was back home. The atmosphere would be more serene, one that could inspire a mind to begin reminiscing.

It was at the dead of night, when his totally messed up sleeping pattern wouldn’t allow him to close his eyelids for long, that Keith would look out his window and think.

The subjects would vary, but the one lingering the most in the front of his mind was his new group’s dynamic. Which was… Still strange, not changing at all from the first day. It literally took Keith to see Shiro snap at Slav because the familiar wouldn’t drink from a glass of water without a straw with the fear of drowning, for Keith to confirm that he was, indeed, in the right reality.

Pidge might be the most normal of the three, in terms of her attitudes compared to hers on the first day they met. Even though, Keith could see how she was trying a little too hard to get him accepted back into the group. And even though he appreciated the thought, he would time and time again tell her that she didn’t have to.

Of course, he was ignored, but at least he tried.

Hunk, in the other hand, was withdrawn. The warming smile, and voice and posture that reminded Keith too much of the sun, was not there for him. Rarely it was there for Pidge at all, in fact. The words that before seemed like they flowed from Hunk’s mouth, were now short and calculated, at least around Keith.

He… had a feeling he was the biggest reason why Hunk was acting that way.

Now, Lance… That was a mystery. A pandora’s box that Keith didn’t really want to open, or to even poke, because he was sure its contents would be absolutely damaging. Especially for his temper.

That got Keith wondering if Lance was always normally _like That_ , or if he was, somehow, being like this around Keith. To make his life miserable for some reason.

 

A random afternoon, during fighting class, Keith found himself sitting by the first rows of the amphitheater. He was alone as the other students engaged into the lesson, as he still didn’t have permission to perform in this class in particular. For a good reason, no less.

While the others perfected their skills, he was carrying out his duties of community service, as he was polishing and cleaning the stray weapons some gods would use in that class. He had to admit it, Keith wasn’t expecting to lay his eyes on that one mace he had ruined the first day he was there, and yet… He had to fix it. Great.

He may have hit his finger with the hammer and bit his lip to stop himself from yelping. And, after squirming a bit with pain, he sucked on it as if _that_ was going to numb the pain.

At least Lance didn’t notice that, because he was sure the way he had been acting, Keith would never hear the end of it. In fact, Keith hadn’t even noticed the end of the class happening in the arena beyond his seat, and, well, speaking of the devil…

-“Hey, look, it’s our _favorite squire_! How’s weapon-cleaning going for ya’?”

Lance’s voice was greeted with a dull ‘clunk’. That because, Keith had been polishing a random sword before the comment, and when he had heard it, he hit the sword’s blade with the hand he was using to polish it with a rag.

Still with the hand where it had landed, Keith slowly raised his glare to meet Lance’s grinning expression. –“Call me that _one more time_ and you _won’t_ be able to speak again.”

In response, as his amused grin only widened, Lance made a motion with his hand by his mouth, as if he was locking it up with a key that he threw over his shoulder.

Knowing for sure Lance would fish for that key in no time to open that _big mouth of his again_ with yet another uncalled-for comment _,_ Keith simply narrowed his eyes at the child of Poseidon.

Standing on the other side of the half-wall, by Lance’s left, Pidge raised her eyebrow as she kept on glancing between her friend and Keith. In the background, Hunk had swung a huge bag over his shoulder and effortlessly crossed the half-wall that divided the audience’s seats and the center of the arena. He kept on climbing, many steps to Keith’s left, and sat three rows above, almost looking like he wasn’t even inserted in the same group.

-“Friendly threats aside…”- Pidge slowly began, trying to lighten the mood. –“That was a good practice.”

As she swung a leg over the wall, pressing her belly on it, and then swung the other, she hopped onto the ground again, now on the other side, and started to make her way towards Keith.

He smiled at her presence as she sat by him. –“Can’t believe you finally joined in.”

Before Pidge could answer, in the background, Lance’s animated voice awakened their attention. -“ _Can you believe_?”

Frowning at the way Lance had said those words, having no idea what he was on about, Keith let a huff escape his mouth.

-“I said I couldn’t.”

That absolutely serious tone did not only get Lance to cackle as he held onto his stomach, but also Pidge.

-“It’s an inside joke,”- She clarified, after some seconds of laugher, that may or may not have made Keith feel stupid. –“don’t mind him. And yeah, I couldn’t be running away forever.”

From the other side of the wall, still, Lance’s eyes seemed to glow with something – happiness, maybe pride, something, as he pointed to his tiny friend. -“You kicked butt, Pidge!”- He uttered, earning a grin from Pidge who sent him a thumbs up.

Reflecting the grin, Lance approached the wall more and leaned on it, folding his arms on top of its dusty stone. His gaze quickly diverted to the one god seating some rows above them, Hunk having his huge bag laid on the ground by his feet as he rummaged through it.

-“You too, Hunk!”- Lance eagerly exclaimed, earning his best friend’s attention. –“Dude, I’ve never seen you so focused out there.”

Surprisingly, or not so much, the compliments drew a smile from Hunk’s face. –“Thanks, buddy.”

In response, Lance simply winked at him.

Meanwhile, leaning back on her seat, having both her hands resting behind her head, Pidge spoke up once more. –“Now – onto the important things. Lance-“

Warily dragging his gaze to meet his gremlin friend, Lance raised a skeptical eyebrow. – “Is this about what I think it is…?”

-“Well I’m sorry I’m curious about your sudden bond with one of the ocean’s deadliest creatures!”

That urged a little huff out of Keith’s nose, almost sounding like a scoff. –“I’m surprised it didn’t just bite your head off as soon as you started talking.”

Trying not to roll his eyes at the tease, Lance, instead, lifted his eyebrow and adapted an expression he thought was equally teasing. –“Ooh, look, Keith has a _sense of humor_. What are the odds, huh?”- As Keith seemed unaffected by the joke, wearing an indifferent look on his face as he watched Lance, the child of Poseidon felt his own mood get washed over by a wave of sincerity as his memory started to settle back on the image of the large sea serpent staring at his soul. –“… And no, it hasn’t. _She_ hasn’t.”

-“How can you be sure it’s a she?”- They heard Hunk question with genuine curiosity from the background.

-“She told me.”- Said Lance, nonchalantly, as he glanced at his best friend for a second. –“That’s enough to go by.”

Pidge’s bewildered yet suspicious gaze went from Hunk to Lance. –“She… told you… Yeah, _okay_ … And, rolling with that, she told you her name was…?”

-“ _Galazios_. But we agreed Blue was a cool nickname.”

That had Pidge’s eyebrows creasing, as her amber eyes seemed to dive into her immense thoughts. –“You know… that’s kind of incredible.”- She admitted, having a hand hovering over her chin. –“I’ve been researching _for days_ about bonds with mythical creatures but I can’t find anything similar to _this_. All records of a bond between a creature and a god mostly implied they had to fight first, and only if the god won – aka _survived_ – the creature would see them as worthy and accept the bond. But you didn’t even _fight it_ …”

Confidently, Lance waved a hand dismissively at her. –“Tsc. All I needed was my _charming_ personality and my _insanely_ good looks.”

-“ _Nah_ ,”- They heard Keith’s voice drag out the word, a tint of amusement in his tone, and in his eyes. –“that wasn’t it.”

Hearing the obvious joke, Lance whipped his head to glare at the god of the Underworld, only to find Keith smirking, a teasing eyebrow raised. It was a rare sight for anyone to see Keith like that, and the first time it had happened, nobody really knew how to react to that, like – hey, apparently Keith has a personality beyond being angsty.

What they didn’t see coming, especially Lance if he said so himself, was that they weren’t expecting to see that expression from Keith more and more each passing day, yet, it appeared once again. Like if he was slowly, very, _very_ slowly getting comfortable around them.

That didn’t matter to Lance, though, not when he hardened his glare at Keith’s stupid smug face.

-“And where is she, right now?”

Blinking, as he broke his glare and settled his gaze on Pidge, who had asked that question, Lance felt his expression shifting into something pensive, completely forgetting the previous exchange.

-“Well… dunno.”- With a sheepish look, and smile, he rubbed the back of his neck. –“In the Oceans Realm? She can’t really fit through a portal, Pidge.”

-“Understandable.”- The child of Athena crossed her arms, wearing a thoughtful look. –“… If we do make it there sometime in the – let’s say – _near future,_ can I-“

Knowing where she was going with this, Lance immediately interjected. -“Pidge, no. I don’t even know if she’ll be friendly to me next time I see her, I can’t possibly know how she’ll be like with a third party.”

It was there, even if for only a millisecond, but Lance saw Pidge’s face going through several emotions until acceptance appeared on her features. Groaning, with crossed arms, she let her back hit the stone behind it with a dull thud.

Out of nowhere, a voice broke the silence in the air, that had established itself only a few seconds prior.

-“Welp, I’m out.”

Everybody turned their heads to face Hunk, who was already getting up, swinging the huge – and probably really heavy – bag over his shoulder. On his other hand, he still held his helmet – it was made of gold, one with a darker tone, and on top, not one but two stiff plumes went from front to back, in a strong yellow, almost orange color. That helmet soon disappeared into a cloud of dust and sparks when Hunk willed it to with his magic.

His battle armor, the one he was still wearing, consisted of a classic Greek breastplate of the same tone of the gold of his helmet. Over his shoulders he had a little white/beige cape, that covered not even half of his back, and was pinned to a button on the left of his breastplate.

Underneath the metal, he had a tunic the same color of his cape, coming down to his knees in sharp, triangular shapes. Another cloth came down from his leather belt, one with a pattern colored with orange and gold, in a dark brown background. His bracers and armored sandals were made of leather, with bits of that beige cloths sticking under it.

His armor, it was a combination of his heritage – the one he was more connected to because of his daily life – the Greek one, and the other he loved and cherished just the same – Egyptian.

As Hunk crossed the half-wall and passed behind Lance, the child of Poseidon turned to face him with a puzzled look. –“Woah, so soon?! Don’t wanna hang out before dinner?”

Stopping on his tracks, Hunk hesitated, before he turned around. He glanced between Lance, Pidge and the Underworld’s demon several times, before he lowered his eyebrows, his response already evident by the look in his eyes.

-“Maybe another time.”

And then, only after a second of hesitation, Hunk turned around again, looking up at the amphitheater’s exit. Watching him go, the remaining three wore expressions of confusion on their faces – each sporting a different tone in them.

-“Okay…?”- Lance ended up saying, faintly, suspiciously.

Just when he said that, the sound of shuffling acquired his and Pidge’s attentions. That turned out to belong to Keith, as he hastily willed himself to get up and pack his things – including the weapons he was taking care of by placing them onto a bag alike one that held golf clubs.

With the same hurried pace, as he swung the bag over his shoulder, he rushed to the half-wall and by only using one hand as support on top of the wall, he swung his whole body to the other side, landed, and kept on jogging towards the exit.

Exactly when he passed behind Lance, he turned around again, now to face Keith, with another shocked look.

-“Keith,”- Pidge started, probably wearing the same expression as Lance. –“where’re you going??”

He only glanced over his shoulder in the middle of his jog to call out to them with a: -“I’ll see you guys later!”

The remaining two spent at least half a minute watching Keith go, until he disappeared beyond the amphitheater’s exit and took a turn – to the same side Hunk had taken it.

-“… That didn’t answer my question.”

Regarding Pidge’s quiet observation, Lance scoffed, amusedly, as he crossed his arms, still gazing at the exit. –“Classic Keith.”

-“You know him for like, twenty-something days.”

-“Eh, _details_.”

 

-“Hey, Hunk! Huuuuunk. _HUNK_ -“

With an annoyed huff, Hunk stopped in his tracks and finally turned around after about five minutes of him quickly walking to avoid talking to the exact god that had jogged after him. With a loud thud, he let his bag fall to the dirt road beneath his feet, as dust awakened upon impact in a cloud around it.

Crossing his arms, Hunk watched as Keith caught up to him, not exactly looking like he had broken a sweat, but his quick breathing was evidence of his effort to keep up. Just like Hunk, he let the bag of weapons he had over his shoulder fall on the ground to his left, not so gracefully as some fell out of it while on the floor – but Keith didn’t seem to care.

-“Woah.”- He practically breathed out before he held his waist with a hand and showed his other palm to Hunk meaning for him to please wait as he took one or two more wheezes to control his breathing. Gods, the Overworld was not only turning him soft, but out of shape, too.

-“I wasn’t expecting you to be this fast.”- Keith confessed with a little ghost of a smile on his lips, obviously trying to be friendly.

However, Hunk wasn’t having it. He still had his arms crossed, holding his chest out even more, now. In his skeptical look, a judgmental eyebrow lifted. –“I’m not in the mood.”

There was a pause, as Keith observed Hunk’s stone-cold expression. Hunk saw in Keith’s eyes a darkness, one not like the one of aggression he had seen some times before. This one seemed almost gloomy, with a little doubt he wasn’t used to see on the Underworld God’s eyes. It almost looked like it hurt Keith.

-“Okay,”- Keith began, with a deep sincerity in his voice. –“then I’ll make this quick.”- Watching Hunk’s slow nod of consent, he continued. –“Look, I don’t know what’s happening… I mean, in the last few days you’ve stopped speaking as much. Especially to me. And I just wanted to know…”

-“You don’t really know?”- Interjected Hunk, as a not so subtle frown appeared on his features. –“What did we all see happening in _that_ arena, huh?”

As if realization had hit him like a boulder, Keith’s eyes widened as he lightly gaped. –“… Oh, so it’s about _that_.”

Hunk couldn’t help the leaking pettiness in his aura, as it completely took over his words. –“Yeah it _is_ about that! How can _I_ react? I just saw an Underworld soldier – who I was told my _whole life_ not to trust in – just impale one of the academy’s students – no matter how _shitty_ he was. Well, _sorry_ for being real’ suspicious of you, Keith! I kind of have a reason for that.”

-“I know.”- Keith grimaced before he sighed. –“And that’s a good reason. But, I…”- He extended his forearms forward, his open palms facing he air, almost making him seem open and approachable as he spoke. –“I’ve learned from that. I just want to make it clear that it’s not my intention to ever do that again.”

-“Is it, though?”

That sudden question, loaded with insinuations, got Keith by surprise. He only gaped as he dumbly watched Hunk, who’s almost accusing expression never wavered.

-“Wh-“

Before Keith could even huff the rest of that word out of his mouth, Hunk immediately interrupted him with a firm tone. –“Let me tell you something, Keith.”- That immediately shut him up. –“Ever since I’ve met you, there was this _feeling_ in my gut, it was really small but I still felt it – that was telling me that there was something _shifty_ about you. But you know what? I let it go, told it that it was fine, that if Pidge trusted you, then I probably should, too. And then _bam!”-_ Hunk beat his fist on his palm _._ –“Right in that _same day_ you just break _all_ the trust we’ve put in you!”

Exhaling from his mouth, Hunk shook his head, as he let his hands fall to his waist. –“And that shifty feeling I had from the first day? I _still feel that_ around you. So, I’m sorry, Keith. That I can’t banter with someone I can’t trust.”

Taking all that in, Keith slowly closed his previously wide eyes shut, as he lowered his head. His furrowed eyebrows trembled, and so did his lips, in a subtler way. For a moment, Hunk raised both his eyebrows, almost thinking that the Underworld’s god was about to cry – and honestly, Hunk wasn’t sure he was ready to see someone like Keith cry.

Surprisingly, that didn’t happen, even though when Keith opened his eyes again, seeing the wobbly dark tone in them, Hunk was sure he was close to.

-“I understand that.”- Keith managed to croak out before he put his fist over his mouth and cleared his throat – that action almost composing him. –“I don’t know if there’s any words I can say that will change that…?”

Watching the timid tone on Keith’s eyes that observed him from below, one that perfectly had mirrored his voice, Hunk felt himself sighing, as his shoulders slump.

-“Actions, mostly. Not words.”

Hunk wasn’t sure what willed him to say such words, knowing that was basically giving a second change to Keith to prove himself to be, you know, not a completely bad guy. Perhaps it had been the deep tone of honesty in Keith’s voice and eyes, one that Hunk had hardly seen in him the past couple of days.

Perhaps, it had been the deep emotional side Keith so tried to hold back but still fluttered in the surface, enough for Hunk to catch it. The thing was, at that moment, that sinking feeling in his stomach, or that creepy shiver Hunk would feel around Keith, especially when he’d give those looks of aggression towards anything, wasn’t there now.

Maybe Keith really wasn’t entirely bad, just like he surely wasn’t entirely good to Hunk’s gut feeling.

-“Right.”- Whispered Keith, before he raised his tone, as the before gloomy look in his eyes, was now turning back to a bright purple. –“Then, let me prove it. Let me prove to you that you can trust me. Just give me this second chance.”

Even though Hunk had already made his decision, he still persisted a little bit further. –“And why would I do that?”

-“Honestly?”- Keith shrugged before his arms fell flat to his sides. –“I don’t know. But if you’d let me – I’d like to try.”- He lowered his eyebrows, expression almost as soft as his quiet voice. –“I’m sorry, Hunk, that I did this to you guys. I can’t possibly go back to change what I did, but if I could, I would have, and would have slapped some sense into my former self. I was just so blind and so-“

Cutting himself off, Keith pressed his lips together, with sourness. Creasing his eyebrows, he lowered his head and shook it – at himself, clearly.

-“It was normal in the Underworld – killing, I mean. It was encouraged, even. Yes, even our own as you guys know. I was… mostly in the dark that day I set foot on this realm. Everything was overwhelming. And listen, I know I should have known better, but I didn’t exactly know the differences between the Underworld and the Overworld and…”

Finally defeated, as words, especially spoken, weren’t really Keith’s forte, he exhaled from his mouth, feeling his body deflate. –“There’s… there’s no excuse.”- He frowned, looking almost furious – at himself. –“I messed up… I really, _really_ messed up…”

-“You did.”- Hunk started, honestly. –“Really badly. But…”- A sigh. –“Fine. If you really mean it when you say you’ll try to do better… And seeing that Lance and Pidge are all open to the idea of you in our group by now… Sure.”- Sternly, Hunk pointed a finger at him. –“ _Don’t_ make me regret it.”

Even though the threat was kind of intimidating coming from a guy such as Hunk, who, in his greatest potential, could probably break Keith in half like if he was a simple stick, it didn’t get Keith to grimace at all. Only because the obvious excitement in his features – even though he was trying to muffle it out – was almost deafening.

-“I won’t.”- As Keith spoke, he extended his open hand forward, a tiny smile forming on his lips, his eyes complementing it.

With a huff, Hunk reached out, and shook his hand.

-“By the way,”- Said Keith, as he took his hand back and settled it on his waist. –“you’ve really been improving in fighting class.”

That got a questioning smile on Hunk’s face. –“Thanks. I’ve been trying harder.”

-“I can see that. You’d make a fine warrior, you know?”

Hunk breathed out a tiny chuckle, as he crossed his arms. –“Yeah. I’m starting to think I would.”

 

 

…

 

 

Shiro had nothing but a brittle sword in his hand.

His hand… If he could even call it that anymore. This didn’t feel like it was his. Never had he consented having this thing replacing his previously cut arm. It looked more like a claw of a monster in any scary story that would keep children awake.

All around him, in rows circling him, in shadows, to the sky, the crowd in the arena roared, cheering, whistling. They were growing excited with this turn of events. Bloodthirsty.

With a shaky exhale, Shiro held the grip on his sword tight. In front of him was a being, not a god. A creature of the Underworld, he assumed. It was humanoid to some extent, but its head had horns alike a bull, and had an enormous back. Its legs were replaced by hind legs of a bull, as well.

This one, however, Shiro was sure was no minotaur. If it was, then it was its slain soul that had seeped into the Underworld after its demise. Because this creature was made of solid hardened magma – obsidian. It had many cracks on its skin, showing its pulsing inside, looking just like magma, though it was purple, not orange and red.

This thing… was undefeatable.

Shiro was on the arena with it, but not alone. There were at least nine more gladiators with him, all of them prisoners of war just like himself.

There was a change, however. Their previously determined looks – worn in the beginning of battle – were no longer there, replaced by looks of defeat and fear. Some gave the impression they were ready to meet their fate.

Unlike Shiro’s. His gaze was just as determined as before, if not even more: Focused heavy frown, gritted teeth, his dark eyes seeming to have a shine in them.

These people were never working together. Since the start of the fight, everybody had at it on their own. Even Shiro. But now, looking at this beast’s horn impaling one daughter of Artemis, before her body turned into ashes as her scream died down…

Shiro couldn’t let anyone else lose their lives. Not today, not if he could do something about it.

As the others watched the horrifying first blood, the crowd going wild, Shiro growled out of frustration. –“ _This isn’t working_!”

It had been a surprise that anyone had heard his shout, as, no matter how loud it had been, the crowd’s roar almost muffled it out. Even so, the gladiator’s gazes diverted to Shiro, one by one.

To his right, appeared a bulky, muscular Viking warrior. She had her double axe swung over her shoulder, her armor – just like everybody’s – looking like it had seen better days. The large dark brown pelt she wore as a cape contrasted with her ginger hair, one that was tied up in a large braid.

-“Only figured that now?!”

Hearing her rough voice, Shiro exhaled from his mouth. –“This thing – it’s worse than any opponent each of us ever fought in solo. It’s more powerful! Alone, neither of us can win against it! But if we work together, maybe we can defeat this thing!”

The following voice came from a smaller, lanky man. His demeanor, it gave his Hermes heritage away easily. _–“If_ you think you can make a group of entirely different people work together, then by all means, I would enjoy to see it happening.”- He steeled Shiro with a severe look. –“It will _not_ work, even so.”

Frowning at the insensitive words, Shiro bit back any response he could have spit back to the man. Instead, he turned back to the others. –“There’s no other choice! We either work together or we _die_.”

Just as he spoke, and before anyone else could, in the distance, deeper into the arena, they heard and saw the creature ram against another of the gladiators, who was trying to keep it away with a spear.

Feeling a knot in his stomach, as Shiro’s eyes fell upon the scene, he clutched his hand. Not even hesitating any longer, his feet were moving, and in no time, he was speeding through the gladiators who watched him with perplexed gazes – as if they knew he was about to rush into a suicidal situation.

At the right moment, the creature turned its back to Shiro, not noticing him, its entire energy focusing on the gladiator before it. Taking that distraction as his cue, at the right distance, Shiro leapt in the air, as a loud growl emerged from his sore throat.

With an unsettling sound, his sword sunk into the beast’s back, right in the middle of its shoulder blades, urging the creature to let out a groan. He watched, refusing to let go of the weapon, as it tore through the beast’s back, the purple magma inside it eating up the blade.

Until, in the middle of its back, the brittle blade gave into the magma’s heat. Before Shiro could even react, jump back, or even before the handle of the sword could fall from its melting body, the creature jerked its back alike a bull, sending Shiro flying backwards.

Grunting, Shiro rolled on the dark dirt of the arena two times, before he got a hold of himself and stopped on his back. The dust flying above his armor, his head, made him cough, but did not stop him from sitting up.

He peered at his right hand, finally unclenching it as the sword’s loose handle fell flat on the dirt beneath him. Unevenly breathing, Shiro’s eyes settled on his hand, seeing the way the obsidian joints gave away a dim purple light from within his arm. This arm, the only thing he could use to defend himself with, now.

 

_-“Wh- What **is** this thing?!”_

_Shiro’s fleeting voice, so desperate and distressed, perfectly mirroring his wide fearful eyes, almost evoked a sob out of him by hearing it. One he held back, knowing he couldn’t show any sort of emotion that was deemed as a weakness in the Underworld. Not when he used his flesh hand to clutch the new arm he had now just woken up to._

_Not when, further from the bed he had the small of his back leaning against, the Underworld’s most powerful and feared magical being – The Witch – stood before him._

_-“An extension of yourself.”- She spoke as she slowly turned around to face him. When her eyes, eyes that tore through the rest of his soul, settled on him, Shiro shivered. –“One to strengthen you, warrior.”_

_In shock, Shiro lifted his eyebrows, as a revelation, enlightenment, flared through his uncontrollable, racing mind._

_-“I am_ **_not_** _your weapon!”- He spat, with the last energy he still had in his chest, with a tone of aggression Shiro didn’t even know he possessed. –“I will **never** do your bidding!!”_

_Such answer, insolent in the Witch’s eyes, willed a furious growl to escape between her gritted teeth. –“To the arenas with this one!”- She furiously exclaimed as Underworld guards started to pour out of the_ darkness _behind her back, efficiently reaching for Shiro. –“Let’s see if time changes his mind.”_

 

It didn’t. It couldn’t.

Back in the arena, Shiro felt his own hands tremble. Her voice still rang in his head alike an echo, one that he used to fuel his will instead. His eyes, a sea of emotions – fear, anger, sadness, desperation – fell upon his shaking fake limb. Firmly, with a frown, he closed it into a fist, trying his hardest to steady his own trembling.

If there was something Shiro had promised himself that one cursed day he had woken up with that arm, was the he was never going to use it the way it was intended for him to. He would never give the Witch the satisfaction.

He would never be anyone’s weapon. Much less the Underworld’s.

So, after that day, he had made a promise to himself. That he would never use that arm as a weapon.

Still with dirt flying over his sight, his blinking eyes settled on the creature further away from him, noticing its yellow glazing eyes locking on his, reminding him too much of the Witch’s own eyes.

Now, now that promise seemed like an anchor to him, in a time he desperately needed to swim to the surface.

So, frozen he remained, as the creature started scrapping its hooves harshly on the dirt. Frozen he remained, when it moved, first, slowly, and then, adapting a sloppy rush. And Shiro, he couldn’t do anything. Not when the eyes of the Witch were still so clear in his mind. Not when his promise made his fake limb feel one thousand times heavier than it actually was.

This was his fate, then. Shiro wondered, for a moment, if the fates, when alive, had even cared to tailor his destiny. And if they did, then was this part of the thread they had weaved into the tapestry of his life, or had it been solely decided by the universe?

Before Shiro could come up with an answer to that, or even before the creature reached him, the warrior wielding the spear was already running towards the beast’s back. However, instead of doing the same type of attack Shiro had done, she ran the sharp blade of her spear through the undead beast’s hooves, just above them.

Such motion, got the creature to utter out a screech, a mix of an ungodly scream and a moo. It stumbled back, the purple by its new wound flashing alike a falling star. With a loud thud, and a tremor that rang through the entirety of the arena, the beast fell on its side.

Shiro, now closer, recognized her armor – one that was much alike his, and even more alike the one his army used. _Exactly_ like the latter, in fact.

With wide eyes, he realized she was one of his. _A Warden of the Skies_.

In a fluid motion, the warden struck the creature’s back just as it got itself up, impaling it with her spear. That only got a low grunt out of the creature, and before it could even try to wiggled it away, the warden twisted it free.

Sensing that now, the creature’s attention was back on the warden, she held her spear tight with both hands, expression focused as she waited for the beast to recover.

It was the moment the bull started to get to its feet again, that a sudden urge washed all over Shiro.

_He had to do something._

Forgetting the weight of his arm, Shiro scrambled back to his feet. He didn’t feel it, but he knew he had curled his fist – the Galra one – and growling, he started to sprint forward.

Until, by surprise, the Viking goddess struck the side of the creature like a ram, the peak of her double axe sinking into the creature’s rock. That only lasted a second, however, until the creature was sent stumbling into a pillar of spikes.

Grimacing, the three of them looked away.

Instead, Shiro’s gaze fell upon the Viking with bewilderment. –“Wh-“

Huffing, she got herself up from her kneeling position and swung her large axe over her shoulder. –“Wasn’t the plan working together?”- Roughly, she nodded to her right, towards the warden. –“She’s still not dead because of you. Maybe there’s some sense in that thoughtless brain after all.”

Such expression drew an indignant noise from the warden’s mouth. –“How _dare you_ speak like that to a _God of Wisdom_ -!”

-“Oh, _bite me_.”

With a dumb-struck gaze, Shiro watched the exchange going on with wide eyes, his mind still trying to process what had happened. He certainly did not notice the rest of the gladiators arriving to their sides, only when the son of Hermes spoke.

-“It was your idea to begin with, one of the Eastern Realms.”- Shiro glanced at him, noticing that his previously stuck-up gaze was now actually sincere. –“Speak your strategy.”

In the middle of the crowd of gladiators, a god with a human body and head of a leopard raised his staff. –“Yeah! Let’s hear it from the one of the Eastern Realms!”

At the sound of those words, the others let out a grave battle cheer, surprisingly in unison. It almost reminded Shiro of the days he spent commanding his own army. It stuck to him, fueled him – their support.

Glancing to his left, Shiro grimaced again, as he saw the creature’s side stuck on that solid wall of concrete and thick spikes. It was cruel, no doubt, even if this creature was a demon, an evil spirit trying to kill them all. Perhaps its animalesque silhouette was what was getting to Shiro – a detail making it resemble a normal animal and a person a little too much. But its ungodly grunts, its cracking obsidian skin and its pulsing purple insides made of magma – Shiro knew this was a demon. This thing, it wouldn’t give up, it couldn’t be reasoned with.

It wouldn’t let itself be spared.

That trap, the pillar of spikes, there were three in total by the edges of the arena. These were meant as traps to be used _against_ the gladiators. Shiro was surprised to see it being used, the first time, in favor of them.

But this couldn’t be the way to defeat this undead monster. Not when the creature didn’t seem affected by the spikes at all, as it sloppily was trying to pull itself free. Not when the one sturdy pillar seemed to be crumbling, dust falling, as loud cracks stretched more and more.

They had to come up with something, and fast, before it set itself free again.

-“Commander!”- He heard the warden utter with a composed tone, noting the tint of desperateness in it. –“How do we deal with this creature?!”

Peering back at them, he saw the Viking speak up, next. –“How is it not dead, yet? It’s literally up against a row of spikes!”

-“It is almost unkillable from what I remember reading up on it-“

With wide eyes, Shiro snapped his head to face the child of Hermes. –“You _know_ what this thing is?! You have to tell us what you know about it! _Please.”_

Looking thoughtful for a moment, the son of Hermes shrugged before answering. –“I don’t remember much, but I do know the only way to kill this beast it to exploit a weakness of it. Different individuals have different weakness, however-“

A loud crack and a furious roar interrupted him, as he and the others glanced towards the undead beast, seeing it applying so much pressure to the pillar, it was to break down at any moment.

With desperation on his eyes, Shiro whipped his head to face the god again. –“The short version, please!”

-“Just find out its weak spot, that is literally the only way the creature can take damage!”- The god hurriedly replied. –“I thought this was clear!”

That had the Viking huff out in irritation. –“But what in _oblivion_ is its weak spot?! That thing literally has spikes impaling it and it’s still kickin’!”

-“We have to find out what it is!”- Shiro uttered.

-“How?!”

Looking at the Leopard god, taking in his question, Shiro felt his eyebrows lower. –“I…”

Finally, a tremendously loud crack sounded through the air, as the sound of boulders falling in the ground followed. When they all whipped around, the creature was now free, some spikes still sticking to its left side. It used its humanoid hand to stand, its legs looking wobbly.

Shiro knew chaos was about to ensue.

-“Commander?!”- He heard the warden call.

Shiro felt his breathing itch, as his eyes settled on the creature. His racing mind only stopped when, in a matter of seconds, he came up with a plan. –“Coordinated strikes!”- Every single gladiators turned to face him when he had said that. –“Let’s each attack it from a different angle, at a different time, and see if it gets a different reaction from the bull so we can find out its weak spot!”

-“Now _that,”_ \- Mused the Viking, sounding a little too amused than she should have been. –“sounds like a plan.”

-“And remember!”- Shiro continued. –“You’re not fighting only for yourselves out there, anymore! Keep each other safe!”

The Leopard god nodded at him. -“Will do.”

And so, they did.

Each one of them struck the creature’s figure, Shiro coordinating each attack from afar. He directed a child of Athena to aid the Leopard god with her mace, landing it on the side of the creature’s thigh. That had not even urged a groan from it.

-“Come on…”- Shiro whispered, as he watched from the distance with a frown on his face. –“There _has_ to be something… Something…”

The only thing he saw, was that the child of Hermes was struggling with his staff, trying to keep the creature at bay once its occasional attention fell upon him. Instantly pointing to the god’s direction, Shiro ordered:

-“Warden!”

To his side, she nodded. –“Yes, sir!”- Just like that, she sprinted forward, getting tangled into the battle.

Shiro felt almost bad that he wasn’t participating with his own weapon, but… He didn’t have one, now. He couldn’t call his Nodachi anymore, not since he had lost the battle against Zarkon’s top army. The winds, without his connection to them – his weapon – no longer responded to him.

The brittle sword that was given to him before the battle was melted in half.

He was stuck coordinating the attacks. So, if he was being so passive, at least he had to focus, and do his part. He had to notice what the creature’s weakness was.

With a careful gaze, he watched as the warden jumped into the air, her strike pricking the undead beast’s neck. But still, there was no give-away for Shiro to notice. Instead, the growl it uttered wasn’t one of pain, but of fury.

That was when things changed.

The creature, overwhelmed by every single attack, was getting more agitated, Shiro found. It shook the warden off its back, sending her with her spear flying. Shiro heard a child of Athena utter a rushed ‘ _watch out_!’ and then…

Chaos ensued.

The beast growled once more, the obsidian of its skin rising as if the creature had muscles and was pushing pressure on them. With a quick movement, it leaned down, its right palm finding the arena’s soil. And its left, curled fist, almost in the same second, fell on it, like a punch.

Not even a second passed before such brutal impact made a shockwave arise from all sides of the beast, sending every and each gladiator flying to literally every direction, including Shiro.

A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.

His back had fallen flat against one of the walls of the arena. Shiro could hear all the Galra some mere meters above him, cheering and cheering. That didn’t bother him, he didn’t even take that into account.

Grunting, Shiro sat up straighter, and willed his eyes to creak open. When they did, he saw the creature.

It had its colossal hand stuck to the ground, trying to get it out. And with a last jerk, it did, leaving behind a massive crater its punch had made.

And then, Shiro noticed something strange.

He saw the creature clumsily stumble back from its force of ripping its hand out of the soil, and landed slightly on the back of its heel, where the warden had run her spear through just some minutes prior, to save Shiro from eminent death.

What he heard from the creature, then… Was a pained whine. Louder than the one it had choked out when the warden had done her damage.

That…

Shiro let out a huff of disbelief.

The Achilles’ heel of this creature… were literally _its own heels_.

Breathing heavily, Shiro kicked his back against the arena border’s cold concrete, but before he could announce his discovery to the other gladiators, they were already charging again.

-“ _WAIT_ -!”

No matter how loudly he had screamed, the gladiators, they were already there, circling the creature again. Many seconds had passed as Shiro hesitated, said nothing, didn’t command them, and they grew restless, jittery, and when one acted upon instinct and had risen up, so had the others.

_Damnit._

With a new passion in his heart, in his spirit, Shiro gritted his teeth as he stood up with the help of his hand. Shiro wanted to shout again, to command, but his dry throat only allowed him to utter out a pathetic rasp. It felt like when, in a dream, one would want to scream but couldn’t find their own voice.

Hell broke loose fast without his command. The Viking took a hard blow after a careless strike, as the child of Hermes was not fast enough to avoid his. Even the warden was struggling until the beast sent her flying again.

A couple more hits after, the beast turned its pulsing yellow eyes to a fallen god, one of the gladiators. Shiro had seen the kid be quiet for practically the whole battle and even before it, when all the gladiators met. This kid, she was probably fourteen at most. Too young to even be able to fight against a Galra specialist soldier, much less take a brutal beast on a one-on-one battle.

Just as Shiro’s eyebrows lifted in terror, in a second, he felt them crease sharply, as he gritted his teeth.

He curled his Galra fist.

Shiro wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he noticed the sight before his eyes change with motion – one _he_ was causing. Quickly standing, he felt his legs move before he even knew he had ordered them to. He didn’t notice when he had quickened his pace into a run, as a roar escaped his mouth.

At that moment, Shiro knew, even before he did it, that he was about to break yet another promise he had made. Only this time? Somehow, in the heat of the moment, he didn’t even feel like he was bothered by doing so. At all.

The kid had barely dodged a strike from the bull just as Shiro arrived by the animal’s back. Now, instead of leaping up like he had done before, Shiro went low, sending his fist Galra fist – _His own fist_ – right into the bull’s open heel.

As his fist connected with the beast’s obsidian and purple magma, he heard the bull choke out an inhuman screech, one that silenced the arena’s crowds.

Shiro’s eyes quickly fell to his hand, the one he still pressed onto what he assumed to be the open wound. It didn’t take long for Shiro to notice something happening in his own hand, then. The lines of where each piece of obsidian in his hand was joined, started to glow brighter and brighter, a purple he had never seen in his hand before.

It looked, in a more organized, clean way, like the beast’s own skin.

The visual light show wasn’t the only effect of Shiro’s punch. In fact, just when his hand started to glow, it started to almost melt the creature’s heel. Only that, instead of actually melting as if his hand was a metal emerged in lava, its own touch made whatever it touched turn into ashes, on a small radius.

Ashes alike the ones god’s bodies would turn into when they would die.

Frozen in place, with a horrified look, Shiro watched as his hand cut through the beast’s heel like a knife through butter, the skin it touched withering away in its awake.

It was like if death’s touch was on Shiro’s own hand.

He didn’t realize when his fist had completely cut the creature’s foot from its leg, but all Shiro saw were the ashes of its previous skin fluttering to the ground. At the same time, the creature fell forward with a loud thud, as dirt rose around it.

It only took a heartbeat for its body, from its heart to its extremities, to combust into ashes.

Wide eyed, Shiro got himself up, trembling as he gazed at his shaking fist. He peered forward, and in front of him, more to the right, he saw the teen he had helped, wearing an astonished look of terror and wonder on her face.

His own breathing was the one thing on his ears, not even noticing how the crowd was literally silent. Instinctively, he looked upwards, to the unmoving crowds, and spotted the seat Zarkon usually took when he was watching.

Today, it was empty.

Then why, _why_ did Shiro feel a sudden heavy feeling taking over the atmosphere? Why did he feel a darkness so powerful, so _electrifying_ , not only in the air, but almost like it was looming over his own exhausted aura?

It took a little while for Shiro’s eyes to find the entity, as he scanned over the crowds. It was then, once he looked up to one of the tunnels that gave access to the higher levels of the arena, that he saw it.

Enveloped in the tunnel’s shadows, its darkness… Stood the Witch.

Shiro could only see her face, her glowing yellow eyes focused on him. And if his own eyes weren’t deceiving him, he saw the way her lips were quirked. A grin. One that only sent more shivers through Shiro’s skin.

Part of him, a selfish one, had regretted what he had just done. But when he teared away his gaze from the Witch’s and settled it back on the young teen who looked just as frightened as he did, Shiro… He didn’t regret it one bit. Not when a young life had been saved.

_No matter what sort of consequences this development would bring him._

…

It felt like whiplash when Shiro’s eyes suddenly captured back reality, into the present, as he gasped and visibly jumped. After a little blinking, as he allowed his hands to scan the surface they were placed on, Shiro realized he was still seating by his desk, in the Overworld.

It took him a while to quietly realize he wasn’t in an arena anymore. He was in his chambers, which Coran had chirpily assigned to him the first day he had… come back to the Overworld. He remembered what he was doing – writing down a series of guidelines on a sheet, ones that he was going to use to guide himself through a lesson he desperately needed to teach Keith – about diplomacy and the formality of diplomatic meetings, because he knew one was soon coming up that required Keith’s presence.

And by his side, he knew his familiar was nestled on top of a stack of books, peacefully sleeping away while Shiro worked. Only that, now, Slav was awake, probably because of Shiro’s jerk, and was eyeing him with reluctancy.

-“Hey…”- Shiro managed to croak out. –“Slav?”

The dragon’s ears twitched a little. –“Yes…?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Shiro focused his gaze on the sheet beneath his fingers, knowing that if he would look at his familiar now, he’d scare him because of the intensity of his eyes – one given to him by the sudden flashback.

-“I was wondering… Are there any reports of anyone escaping the Underworld? After the war happened?”

-“Hmm…”- The familiar seemed pensive as he gazed off into the emptiness, having one paw under its chin, as its whiskers twitched. –“If I am not mistaken, they do say nobody ever managed to escape the Underworld. Their chance of survival would be about 0.01 percent! As expected, _very low_ _odds.”_

Shiro sighed. –“I know that.”- Softly, he peered towards the dragon, not wanting to spook him with harsh movements. –“But… are there no records?”

Slav hummed. –“I would have to look more into that before giving a solid answer.”- Suddenly, he made a motion as if he was lifting his eyebrows. –“Is… there a reason for your wondering?”

With melancholy, Shiro watched him for a second longer before he set his sight back on the sheet. Creasing his eyebrows, he closed his eyelids, and right at that moment, not even needing to focus much…

It felt like Shiro could hear their voices. Like if they were the ones in the room with him, not Slav.

…

-“ _The Champion_!!”

The sudden cheer made Shiro pause, as with pursed lips, he felt his eyebrows raise far on his forehead. –“M…”- Slowly, he lifted a finger of his and pointed it at his own chest. –“Me…?”

The gladiator’s chambers weren’t much, one could even call them cells – only that instead, they were bigger rooms, its walls filled with bunk beds leaning on them. Now, they had won yet another match as a team – the fifth in a row. No casualties had yet happened.

That cheer, of Shiro’s apparent new title, was uttered by none other than the Leopard god, who sat on the bottom bunk of the bed in front of Shiro.

In response to Shiro’s astonished wondering, the Leopard nodded. –“It is the word in the streets, one of the Eastern Realms! The one who never lost a solo match, and the one who leads his squadron to victory in Beast Matches!”

Seating on the same bed, part of the group’s conversation, to the Leopard’s left, sat the Viking. –“You’re painting him as if he’s some kind of legend or something.”

The feline whipped his head around to face her, a mildly offended look in his face. –“Is he _not_?!”

-“Guys, guys!”- Interjected Shiro, as he waved his palms at them. –“I’m a gladiator like all of you. I’m just doing my job.”

On the top bunk, laid the son of Hermes, his belly turned the really close ceiling. He grunted before he peered at Shiro. –“Which is…?”

-“Well… To fight. To survive.”- There was a pause, as Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. –“… And to make sure everybody else does, too.”

Like if on cue, the Leopard lifted his arms in the air. -“A _hero_!”- His utter willed a groan out of the Viking, who laid her cheek on her propped fist.

That cheer, it made Shiro stammer. –“I, I wouldn’t say-“

Just before Shiro could speak another word, a hand fell on his right shoulder. When he – and the others – glanced towards it, he saw the warden looking at him with a firm yet respectful expression. –“Commander, with all due respect... Praises are meant to be taken.”

Hearing that, the Viking let out a loud ‘hah!’ –“Ooo, look at _miss suck_ up finally serving up the _tea.”_

Seemingly irked, the warden regarded her with a glare. –“I did _not_ ask for your input.”

Nonchalantly, the Viking shrugged. –“Didn’t need to.”

With another weary groan, the warden walked back to her bed – the bottom bunk on the opposite wall the Leopard and the smirking Viking were sitting at. Shiro, in the middle, observed the sort of silent exchange the warden and the Viking were still sharing, as they apparently refused to let go of each other’s gazes.

Raising his eyebrow, with a confused tone, Shiro peered over to the Leopard god, who, when noticing his look, shrugged.

Crossing his arms, Shiro seemed pensive for a second, before he pursed his lips and he, too, shrugged. Letting go of the whatever was happening in front of him, Shiro turned around, and found by the wall he was now looking at, the young teen he had helped in the first beast match.

She wasn’t one to talk much, Shiro found. But if there was one thing Shiro noticed, was that she had potential. Her assassin-like type of style sometimes contradicted with the warrior-like moves she’d try to pull, ending up with a sloppy mix of both styles. Shiro had given her some tips, alike the warden and the Viking had cared to, as well.

And Shiro had to be honest, the kid was improving.

Not so much in social terms, though.

With that thought in mind, and genuine worry and curiosity, Shiro walked over to her.

She was laying on the top bunk, with arms crossed, staring at the ceiling with such frown, Shiro was sure if she concentrated just a little more, she’d melt the spot she was staring at.

Casually, Shiro leaned the side of his left hand against the bunk’s structure, trying to appear friendly. –“Hey…”- He softly greeted.

-“Leave me alone.”

The grumpy tone made Shiro sigh. –“I will, uhm, in a second… I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

The teen shrugged. –“Fighting for my life every single day? Yeah, just _peachy_.”

That made Shiro’s expression fall, as he lowered his eyebrows. –“I understand it’s-“

-“You don’t understand _anything_!!”

Suddenly jumping back with wide eyes, Shiro regarded the scowl the teen was now sending him. Her rough-ish shout had made the temperature in the room drop, as, every single gladiator in it gazed at them with astonished looks.

Seeing nobody reacting, the teen continued. –“We are just lucky! Lucky the Galra didn’t get a creature that could take us down, yet! But haven’t you noticed?! Every single creature gets harder and harder to slay! There will come a day we won’t be able to take it down!”

Every single word, it felt like slap to Shiro’s face, a reality check. It wasn’t the type of thinking Shiro was used to set his mind on, not when he was now basically in charge of everybody. He had to keep himself determined, see the bright side of things and believe.

This outburst, though… It was the sincerest thing he had heard in a while. No matter how harsh it had felt.

There was a large pause following the outburst, one in which still no gladiator dared to speak, until, timidly, the Leopard god regarded them, especially Shiro.

-“No,”- He breathed out, faintly. –“The Champion will never let that happen…”- His obviously preoccupied gaze fell upon Shiro. –“Right, Champion…?”

Followed by the faint question, Shiro glanced around the room, noticing how every pair of eyes was heavily settled on him. It felt to Shiro like he was being watched by a room full of puppies, the way their eyes were expecting him to answer positively to the god’s question.

Shiro thought about it. Not for long, that is, as a sigh of defeat dared to leave his nose, as a disheartened expression took over his features. He hadn’t admitted it to them, but every day, with no break, always fighting… It was wearing him down.

This couldn’t go on for any longer…

-“I…”- Said Shiro, sounding like a breath, a low tone. It was sincere, he noted, as his empathetic eyes fell upon the audience watching him. –“I’m not… _She’s right_.”- When Shiro admitted that, he noticed from the corner of his eyes, how that had earned a surprised look from the teen. –“We can’t keep fighting every day until our legs give out. We may be gods, but… We still have our limits.”

After looking around the room, unsettled, the Viking’s look regarded him, with suspicion. –“So… What then? You’re saying we won’t survive for long?”

Lowering his head, Shiro heavily exhaled from his nose, before he held his waist and subtly shook his head. –“I can’t promise otherwise. It’s… Unrealistic.”

-“Commander…”- He heard the warden say, with a soft tone. –“What can… Is there anything we could do to prevent that?”

Taking in the question, Shiro creased his eyebrows as he let his sight fall to the dusty floor beneath his feet. For a long string of seconds, he mulled over the dilemma, with a hand cupping his own chin. After a little while, he subtly peeked up, to his left, and saw the teen staring at him, her eyes hopeful, he sensed. Like if she was waiting for his proposition.

And what was said proposition to be?

Well, these people, they saw Shiro as practically their leader, now. And now, again, he felt the same weight he had when he was commanding his army. That he had to try his hardest to protect them, to keep them well and alive.

There was no way he could continue to do that in the arenas.

-“… Yes… There is.”- Shiro had finally answered, with a lower tone, before he glanced back up at the awaiting room. His expression, now, it was stern, determined, fueled. And when he spoke up next, his voice mirrored the exact tone of his aura.

-“We _have_ to escape.”

…

With his past self’s words still stuck in his mind, Shiro heard himself sighing right after, in a way that made his exhaustion evident. -“I can’t… It’s best I don’t say it, right now.”- With creased eyebrows, he lightly shook his head, before he opened his eyes and halfheartedly glanced at his familiar. -”I just need to know…”

Sensing the serious vibe coming from Shiro, Slav nodded, keeping the conversation simple, without any of his usual endeavors. –“I will begin my research as the sun rises!”

The lack of hesitation in the dragon’s voice made Shiro smile at him. –“Thank you.”

Regarding that, Slav nodded, accepting the thanks. He began to get himself up more, and extended his slim body over the large book he was resting on, as a sleepy stretch. It was in no time he was floating in the air, and started to make his way towards the door.

-“Slav, wait!”

Slowly, still affected with sleep, Slav turned around, noticing through his half-lidded eyes the sudden urgency on Shiro’s face, and the relief that washed over it after.

-“I… I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but I need you to know that, I…”- Shiro, almost anxiously, rubbed the back of his neck. –“You’re my familiar and I-“

Huffing, the dragon smiled. –“I know, Shiro. I know.”

Having a bond with a familiar, it meant that the god in question and the animal would share a deeper understanding of each other, especially emotionally. The expression on Shiro’s eyes, and the way his voice was spoken, Slav could see right through him, as well as sense the words lingering in his consciousness.

Shiro was going to say that he appreciated him.

Looking as though a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, Shiro’s smile was back on his face, with all his heart. –“I’m glad you do.”

And he watched, as the dragon turned right around, and made way to the living room, where he’d sleep on the living chair. That day he had looted about four blankets and placed them all around the living chair to make his nest was honestly, kind of cute. The way he had complained when Shiro dared to move just an inch of a blanket, saying that now it was all ruined and he had to organize them again – that had been actually infuriating.

That pretty much just summed up their relationship. And honestly, Shiro didn’t really understand how destiny chose to bind them together.

Having said that, Shiro knew he should have said this – or tried to, at least – to Slav, because… He felt like he didn’t say that so often. Not to his familiar, who had done much for him, being that either helping him or annoying him to death.

Thinking about that one talk Shiro had had with Keith some days prior was probably what had caused it. Shiro wouldn’t back down from his statement of ‘ _some personalities just don’t match’_ , because that’s just a fact. One that many times applied to him and his familiar.

That didn’t mean that they couldn’t try to make it match, especially since they were stuck with each other. And being honest, handing out praise when it was needed? That was probably a great step forward. Talking about it, should probably be the second, even though Shiro didn’t really know when he’d bring that topic up with Slav. He just… had a lot in his mind.

Some things would just have to wait a little more.

 

 

…

 

 

-“Lance, we _need_ to talk.”

Lance suspiciously lifted an eyebrow at that. This tone, _oh gods_ , this one coming from Pidge, it was serious. But not serious in the way she had been hurt, serious in the sense of: Lance was sure scolding was about to happen. Towards _him_ , of all people.

While Hunk and then Keith had gotten up and ran off about half an hour prior, Pidge and Lance opted to stay back and chill by the arena. Since their class was the last one in the amphitheater that day, the space was free to take and even the number of students who chose to stay in it was very few.

Pidge actually wasn’t even in the center, she was still on the spot she had claimed on the seating row, and had her legs crossed. She was working on some part of her magic that Lance couldn’t be too sure about, because she hadn’t really specified what she was doing, and it wasn’t like it was visible.

In the meantime, Lance was working on the one thing he was pretty sure he was good at – and that decision had maybe been made half to keep his aim sharp, and half to work as an ego boost.

Holding his breath, already with the bow close to his face and an icy arrow notched on its string, Lance aimed towards the target in front of him, which was practically frozen by now, due to his arrows. Lining it up, Lance waited – just enough – and then, he let go of the string.

Just as the sound of ice hitting against a flat surface was heard in his ears, Lance felt himself grin.

_Another perfect bullseye._

Satisfied with his performance for the day, Lance quickly spun around, noticing Pidge had made a motion with her head for him to get closer. Complying, Lance kept on walking forward, and as he did so, he squeezed his bow tight on his hands, making it disappear in a matter of seconds in a frost cloud.

When he arrived at the half-wall, Lance leaned his upper body forward, opting to place his folded arms over the stone. He played with his fingers, noticing the itchy frost still sticking to his skin.

-“Better be important, gremlin,”- With the same cocky grin, he peered upward. –“I was _on a roll_.”

Pidge did not seem to mind it, though. She did, however, prop her left elbow on top of her knee, leaned forward on the seating, and placed her cheek over her knuckle. –“ _Ugh_ , I’ve been trying to train something I’m sure I can do…”- Noticing Lance lifting a curious eyebrow at that, she paused. –“secret for now, if you’re gonna ask – but all I have on my mind are questions. About Hunk’s attitude, for example.”

It was clear Lance’s tone sobered at that subject. -“Yeah, he’s _been_ acting kinda’ strange, huh?”

-“And he hasn’t been the only one.”

Completely clueless, yet sort of intrigued, Lance observed Pidge for a little while, as she lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at him. –“Hmm?”- Suddenly, the pieces seemed to have connected in his head, as an absolutely indignant tone washed over his features. –“ _Hey,_ are you saying what I _think_ you’re trying to say-?!”

-“Yeah, the answer is, you’ve been acting like a complete moron.”- Interjected Pidge. –“Like, more than usual.”

That got a huff out of him, his expression calmer, yet still moody. –“Gee, thanks for the kindness, Pidge.”- He hunched his shoulders as he looked at her straight in the eye and grumbled: -“ _No wonder you’re the gremlin in the group_.”

Not so surprisingly, that statement actually made Pidge grin, seeming pleased. -“And I take pride in that. Now, spill it.”- She gestured at him with her hand. –“What the heck has been all that with Keith, lately?”

The half-coughs, half-scoffs sounding huffs Lance continuously let out of his mouth made an amused look appear in Pidge’s eyes. –“Wh- Wha, what do you, mean?”

-“Oh, come on, it’s impossible you’ve missed it. You’re totally doing that on purpose. Like, I thought this was just you being _you_ when you arrived to the classroom and told me you were gonna prank him as soon as he walked in, but _oh boy_ ,”- Crossing her arms, Pidge leaned her back into the cold marble. –“has this been escalating during the week…”

Blinking several times, Lance allowed that information to settle in his mind before he creased his eyebrows, answering. –“I have, like, literally no idea why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”- He leaned away from the wall, lightly extended both arms to his sides as he kept his body slightly lower. –“You told us to be nice, right? Well, I’m trying to be inclusive-“

-“By gently bullying him?”

-“ _I mean_ …!”- With no more words daring to come out of his mouth, Lance huffed, grumpily, and crossed his arms as he buried his neck between his shoulders.

A tired sigh left Pidge’s mouth, her expression, now, adapting to the seriousness of the situation. –“What’s even your problem with him?”- She softly questioned. –“Like, that first day after the holidays, we went over it and you told me you were cool. Obviously, _that_ was a lie.”

-“Pidge, I literally don’t know what you’re even talking about. I’m being normal-“

-“Yeah, sure you are.”- Just as Pidge had spoken that completely unconvinced mutter, her amber eyes went wide, with realization. –“ _Wait_ … Is… Is this because of your ‘complex’?”

That made Lance’s eyebrows shoot up in his forehead, before he frowned. –“My _what now_?!”

Regarding her friend’s snap, Pidge waved both her palms at him, a slight grimace in her face. -“Woah, sorry if I crossed a line, there…”- Unsurely, Pidge scratched her messy hair, before she settled both her hands on each of her ankles. –“It’s not my intention, and I know you’re sensitive about that, but… C’mon Lance, we both know what I’m talking about. This thing, it’s totally making you act like a jackass towards Keith just because you feel like…”

There was a pause as Pidge seemed pensive, before her astonished voice matched perfectly with her expression. –“Like how you felt around Vali… _Holy shit_ -“

-“You’re wrong!”- Immediately protested Lance, taking a step forward. –“No, there’s, nuh-uh, there’s been no enlightenment there whatsoever, Pidge. Whatever you think it is, it’s _wrong_.”

As she spoke, Pidge was sure she was getting more and more agitated, especially due to the scowl she was sure she had in her face. –“So, you _don’t_ feel inferior to Keith the way you feel about literally everybody who people look up to?!”

-“Pft, who looks up to _Keith_ , anyway?!”

Lance decided he was not going to acknowledge a voice inside his head that reminded him of the various times that his mind silently nominated Keith as ‘ _the son Poseidon always wanted Lance to be’_. He decided, not to recall that one night, right after the duel, in which Lance couldn’t sleep, and spent the night loathing the Underworld god’s fantastic fighting skills he wished he possessed.

_Looking up to,_ it would be a strong expression to use to name whatever it was he felt towards Keith.

Jealousy, perhaps, even though Lance would never admit it out loud. However, admiration, it was a different concept. Lance wasn’t sure he admired the Underworld’s god, not after everything.

And if anyone would, as Pidge was implying, then Lance seriously didn’t get it. What did Keith have that was so great besides just being an elite soldier? Being confused over the smallest things every-so-often? Literally anyone could do that.

-“… I mean,”- Lance was sure to put on the most believable cocky grin to compensate for the five seconds he spent on mute. He extended his left index finger forward, the thumb upward and placed his hand under his chin. –“have you _met_ Keith? He’s a _mess.”_

-“You know, it’s pretty rich of us calling him a mess while we’re like, less functional than Coran. Even you, Hunk and me combined, actually.”

Regarding that, Lance pursed his lips as he tilted his head, nodding slightly. Well, that wasn’t entirely wrong. -“Your… point, though?”

Sighing, Pidge let her head drop to her hand, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. –“Lance,”- She started, with a slightly sharp voice, as she looked down to him. –“my point is, I know how you just run away from your problems – _oh don’t give me that look_! You know it’s true, Hunk has pointed that out millions of times!”- That got a grumpy grunt out of Lance. –“Seriously, Lance, work on yourself instead of running, dude. Don’t go around projecting your problems onto somebody else and use them as your damn punching bag.”

Silence fell upon them as the echo of Pidge’s monologue still lingered in Lance’s ears. He could tell, even without looking at his own reflection, that he must be looking quite furious. Underworld, he could feel something boiling hot inside of him, something that urged him to tighten the grip of his closed fists, paling his knuckles.

-“… I’m _so_ not gonna hear this.”

Hearing Lance’s low grumble, Pidge frowned deeply, refusing to back down. –“What? Because I’m right and you’re _scared_ to admit you’re wrong?!”

That was the one insinuation that got Lance to snap. –“ _Oh my gods_ , Pidge, can you get off your high horse and stop being so _fricking toxic_ for _one second_?! Or stop being a _know-it-all_ and assuming what my problems are!?”

-“Sorry for caring!”- Snapped Pidge, as she threw her arms to the sides, before she brusquely beat her hand over her heart. –“And _I’m_ the toxic one?! At least I’m not the one going around bullying whoever just because I think they’re _better than me_!”

-“That’s high of you to say, you’re literally the smartest student in the whole academy! Of course, you don’t know how _That_ feels like!”

Pidge rapidly pointed an accusing finger at him. -“ _See_?! You just confessed you feel inferior right there!”

Rapidly inhaling from his mouth, through his gritted teeth, Lance could feel his scowl turning sharp, this agitation in his chest burning. –“ _Oh, congratulations, Pidge_! Seriously, I’m so happy for you – for getting your nose into something that’s clearly _none of your business_ , _HUH_?!”

-“Okay, _ENOUGH_!”- Exclaimed Pidge, as she slashed both her hands forward. –“Time-fricking-out!”

With a low growl, Lance begrudgingly crossed his arms, peering to the side. He grumbled something incoherent under his breath, but he did comply.

In the meantime, Pidge let some long seconds pass by between them, before she spoke up again, with a lower tone. More collected. –“This is getting way out of hand and at this point we’re just throwing whatever at each other like little kids.”

-“Pft… Yeah… We are.”

She looked at her friend with furrowed eyebrows, inspecting him with cautious eyes behind her round lenses. Lance, he was always like this whenever someone would try to pry something from him. While other’s anger could burst into flames, his was just as bitter, but instead, it made him grow _cold_.

An interesting trait, considering his power was ice. However, whenever he got like this, it wasn’t… Ideal. It was something rare to see from him, too. Hunk and Pidge had seen him like this just a handful of times, because, Lance didn’t really get seriously angry that often. Not like how he appeared to be at that moment. Much less towards friends.

Whenever he did, though… Then the other part had messed up pretty badly to make him like this. Pidge was also sure he didn’t explode like that just because of her insinuations, since he usually had more patience. So, the only conclusion, taking this information into account, and the subtle gloominess looming behind his aura, Pidge knew this was more of a ‘ _I’ve been feeling upset and snapped because_ _this was the last drop’_ kind of situation.

And considering the words she had just spat at him some minutes prior… Maybe she wasn’t being the best friend she intended to be.

-“Look,”- Pidge uttered, sincerely, as a sigh. When Lance peeked an eye at her, she continued, wearing a remorseful expression and a mimicking voice. –“I’m sorry. It was my fault for going there, and I’m sorry I pried. I can’t force you to talk about things you don’t want to, and I’m sorry for assuming I know what’s going on. Okay? I’m sorry. I really, _really_ am. I was a total idiot and blew up on you, while I was the one being nosy. I should have just, not pressed it when you showed you didn’t want to talk about it…”

A pause stretched in the air between them, but all the tension in the atmosphere broke when Lance released a deep sigh, lowering his head, the grip of his crossed arms loosening.

-“Yeah…”- His voice was faint, husky. –“you _were_ kind of an idiot.”- He licked his lips, the look on his face reluctant. –“… But so was I.”- He looked up at his friend. –“I… You’re right. I did feel inferior to Vali and I do feel like I always have to prove myself. Because literally nobody takes me seriously – and yeah, before you say it, I _know_ you and Hunk do. I meant everybody else who just, sends me those looks sometimes before they whisper to each other again.”- He scoffed at that. –“They think they’re _so slick_ …”

Pidge was surprised he even stayed calm, knowing for sure that coldness of his was hard to warm up. And in a way, it still remained in the icy look of his eyes, a bitterness not yet sweetened. However, it was good, that instead of running away… Lance was actually confessing things, speaking them out of his chest.

So, Pidge continued with an honest tone. -“They’re also not important in your life.”

-“I know, but you know me. I still care. And I know it’s stupid, but I do.”- With an exhale from his nose, Lance shook his head. –“And Keith – no, I don’t look at him the same way I looked at Vali.” – His gaze met Pidge’s again. –“You know why I started to pick on him. Vali was the one going after Hunk, and even went after you that one time, remember?”

That memory got Pidge to both visually cringe, and to frown with disgust. –“Ugh, wish I didn’t… _What a moron_.”

Lance, in the other hand, his voice was still composed. -“Exactly. He was…”- A frown. –“He was _disgusting_ , saying all those comments about Hunk’s weight and about your identity and look- I lost it.”- Lance lifted his arms to the sides and let them drop all in one second. –“And then yeah, he went after me until his last day, but that’s not the point. Vali was the stereotypical know-it-all dude who thinks he’s the _only righteous one_ , or whatever.”

As he placed his hands on his waist, feeling the cold touch of his armor, a look started to appear on his face. It was an emotion that Pidge had no idea what it represented. Perhaps, it was a mix of many, each with entirely different meanings, some even overlapping and contradicting each other.

-“Keith’s… _different_.”

The strange tone in Lance’s voice, it was something that made Pidge squint at him, but only for a second, after she chose not to pry on _that_.

Instead, she ended up saying: -“Yeah, he is. But _is_ the reason you started to pick on him different?”- She lifted an eyebrow, not being able to stop her curiosity to get the best of her. –“Like, I know part of the reason you went for Vali was for all that stuff, and honestly, Hunk and I are _eternally_ grateful for you, but… What did Keith do for you to be like that towards him other than-“

-“You’re not gonna say how I feel inferior to him again, are you?”- Interjected Lance, wearing an unimpressed look on his features.

-“Then I won’t. But I know you see the way the whole academy talks about him, now. The one frightening demon-warrior who took down the academy’s most godly-like fighter. And I see the way you look at people when they muse about his skills.”

Huffing, Lance took a step forward. –“Look, I’m not even gonna say anything about that because I don’t – _for the millionth time_ – feel inferior to him. But I…”- Scoffing, he crossed his arms, a pout appearing on his lips. –“He’s just… I know we welcomed him back somehow, but gods forbid I trust the dude after everything. I can’t, I don’t… I just don’t like _his actions_ , and _his attitude_ , and his _stupid_ snark, and his _idiot_ face-“

-“ _Okay_ …”- Slowly, Pidge lowered her eyebrows, a quizzical tone in them. –“There’s a lot to unpack there… But I’m not gonna pry.”

-“Finally.”- Grumbled Lance, a defying tone in his voice.

That irked Pidge a little. -“Pft. Just… Whatever, Lance, do what you want, but just, analyze your actions from time to time.”- It wasn’t meant as an insult, or to be a jab to her friend. Pidge meant it, because that’s what she thought was best to tell him – whether Lance liked it, or not. –“And you don’t need to tell me the same because I know I’m far from being an angel.”

It appeared that Lance understood her sincerity, because instead of looking angry, a ghost of a smile, a teasing one, appeared on his lips. –“Yeah, Keith’s the literal demon, but you’re somehow _more_ of a demon than he is.”

That joke got Pidge to huff out a chuckle. –“And unapologetic for it.”- Right then, she furrowed her eyebrows, in a more serious tone. –“I _am_ sorry I upset you though, again-“

-“Yeah, yeah, you’re fine.”- Lance dismissively, casually, waved a hand at her. –“I know you care but you’re just blunt about everything. And I totally know how you suck at emotional stuff-“

-“Mhmm, feelings _suck_.”

-“Heh, yeah, sometimes they do.”- Lance took a pause, before he gestured back at Pidge. –“Thanks for like, checking in and for that reality check, though.”- He scratched the back of his head. –“But, I don’t know, I don’t think I’m treating him any different, like…?”- Defeatedly, he sighed. –“I’ll think about it, okay?”

With a little smile on her face, Pidge nodded. –“That’s enough for me.”

Silence fell between them once more, and this time, nobody dared to break it. Lance, after a minute, had went back to train his archery skill, or at least, to polish it. However, now that his mind was a chaotic sea storm, he couldn’t even notch an arrow and aim without trembling. When an arrow missed the middle of the target and instead sank into the edge of the target, Lance decided it was enough of training for today.

The skies were darkening, anyway. Looking upwards, he could see the golden of the now gone sunset fading into the dark blue already in the sky. The night’s breeze struck his short bangs, and raveling in its chilling feeling, Lance breathed it in. If he focused, it had a faint smell of the ocean farther down the coast.

When he had cleaned up after himself and packed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, he asked Pidge if she wanted to go look for Hunk so the three could have dinner together. She told him she wasn’t hungry, wearing a look in her eyes that made Lance’s eyes narrow. He instantly guessed what she was doing – another search for Matt – and when Pidge had admitted so, Lance sighed.

She got off with a warning of not abusing it, to which she replied with a slightly grumpy ‘ _I won’t, gee, how many times…_ ’

Satisfied with the answer, Lance made his way towards the dorms. In the crossing of the bridge that connected the cliff of the amphitheater with the actual academy, Lance found one or two other gods silently walking to their own destinations, and not much else. Only when he set foot on the dorms had he seen more people.

When he opened the door of his own, he was disappointed to find the room empty. The beds, except Pidge’s, were made, just like they had been left in the morning. No sign of Hunk.

Quietly groaning, Lance let his bag fall on his bed. He debated over getting dinner, not feeling like having it alone but… When he heard his belly complain in protest, he gave in.

His armor was neatly placed on its armor stand, in his corner of the room. Now changed into regular clothes, Lance decided to go out.

The walk over to the dining area was normal, quiet, just alike the night, even though there was much chattering here and there, as apparently a large portion of the students were hanging around that place.

The eating area was just on the back of the main temple and the two buildings each on its side, that were for hosting classes. It had a rectangular shape just like the others, and a large patio in the middle, which was filled with tables. Many lights hung from the columns of the hallways around it, as well as the lanterns hanging from strings that went to a point of the roof to another across the courtyard.

If it was any other day, Lance would probably look around and take in the warm atmosphere that the place held, but when his stomach quietly growled again, he knew he had to make a beeline for the food station.

When in line, he examined his options and – _ugh_ , fish, no thanks. He was _so_ not gonna eat a friend. Chicken, however… _That_ was good.

Waiting for his order to be cooked, Lance beat his foot on the pavement, arms crossed. Gods, he was completely exhausted. And that little argument with Pidge literally just opened up his appetite.

Yeah, he was the type to get hungry when he was mad.

Part of him was still resentful towards Pidge, even though he knew she was blunt, and was just trying to help. She had been worse, too, and when Hunk had confronted her about it years ago, she gave in – after a few heated words – and promised she’d try to do better. And she was, but… There was still a long way of progress ahead. Lance couldn’t really be mad, per say, but… Some things were uncalled for, and even though he did forgive her, he knew they’d stick for at least a week.

Which was just great, having more things to bug him when he’d slide his eyelids shut and try to sleep-

Feeling his skin crawl with an unpleasant feeling, Lance narrowed his eyes at the suddenness of it. His thoughts now completely dispersed in his mind, Lance focused a little, and figured out that this creepy feeling he was having was the same one would feel when… Someone was staring.

With an arched eyebrow Lance glanced, subtly, to his left, where he had felt that the look had come from. Expecting to see Hunk, or anyone familiar, Lance was vaguely disappointed to see it was just a random student, who he knew only from looks. The guy was by a group of two others, who Lance also recognized, but couldn’t name even if he was asked.

The one who had been staring peered back to the group without even noticing Lance seeing him from the corner of his eyes. Suddenly interested in whatever that was, Lance focused a little, and was thankful when he found out he could mostly hear the conversation from where he was standing.

-“The dude’s insane!”- He heard the blonde one say. –“Hah, not only in battle but in his brain, too, probably.”- That urged some snickers out of the others. –“Bro, no, you don’t understand, I thought he was gonna climb up to the seats and start going at us like a loose bull.”

_So_ , they were talking about Keith, huh…

Lance was suddenly even more interested, feeling his level of pettiness rising.

The second dude interjected, then. –“Okay, but, Vali was ruthless. I once went up against him and a hit from him literally cracked my rib! I had to spend an entire week with the healers. But this guy? _He obliterated him like it was nothin’_.”

It went on for quite a while, the conversation, and if Lance was going to be honest, he was starting to get bored hearing it. Yet, at the same time, his eyebrow twitched any time he’d hear them muse about the demon-warrior, or whatever the Underworld they were addressing Keith as, because they were painting him as some kind of mythical creature.

_Yes,_ technically they were _all_ mythical creatures, they were gods, but Lance couldn’t care to change the comparison.

And when they would casually talk ill of the Underworld’s god, Lance would feel a smirk appear on his lips, while at the same time he’d feel something constricting in his chest.

_What a bunch of dumbasses…_ Lance ended up thinking as his eyes slid from the trio to the server handing out a dish to someone else. _And where’s my chicken, anyway?!_

And if that chicken had been done sooner, Lance wouldn’t have heard that one comment that absolutely infuriated him.

-“… yeah, that girl came close to beat Vali, not gonna lie.”

-“Hah, that _Poseidon’s kid_ , though, remember?”- Lance felt his eyes widening as a static chill ran down his whole body at the recognition of _his title_. He immediately tried to tell himself that it could probably have been anyone else with that heritage when the blonde guy added: -“In that one class fight the day of the duel? Hah, he really did try hard to defeat Vali, huh?”

Regarding the snickers, Lance quietly growled, sending a subtle yet sharp glare to the side, while not fully turning his face towards them.

-“Oh yeah, he really did think he was gonna win, remember how he was just with his hands up to the crowd,”- The second guy put his hands up and turned around the place like if he had just won a glorious fight and was soaking into the crowd’s cheers. –“Like this?”

-“Hey, at least I envy the dude’s confidence!”

The laughs that last joke evoked got Lance’s eye twitching with irritation, as he gritted his teeth. Feeling his shoulders tensing up, his fists clenching to his sides, Lance was just about to walk up to them to retaliate – _when a server called his order_.

He took a double take, still trying to decide which thing to do, until he sighed, letting his shoulders fall. This fight? It wasn’t worth it. He was too tired either way, and Lance had a feeling that, regarding how emotionally unstable he was feeling at the moment, he’d just end up making a fool out of himself anyway.

After he walked up and took his order’s tray, thanking them with a stretched smile, Lance turned back around, to the patio, and was faced with his next dilemma: _Where could he take a seat at?_

Ignoring the gossiping jerks, Lance walked down the hallway and into the patio – noticing how just as he was walking past them, the guys snuck some glances at him. Not even bothering to take that seriously, Lance pushed forward, walking past half-full tables or completely full ones.

It took him a while to find the perfect place to seat at – just because he didn’t want to casually put his tray down a table with people already in it and sulk as they’d awkwardly eat, not knowing how to regard him.

However, he did spot a neat little table by the corner of the patio, to the right, and he immediately quickened his pacing to make sure it wasn’t going to be suddenly occupied by another.

Successful, Lance laid the tray down with almost no care, and sat on the bench with a groan-whine. He felt sore, if he was gonna be honest, but not physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Whatever was this lingering feeling of lack of contentment he had in his head, weighing down his shoulders.

In a moment, Lance propped his elbows on the table, and gently placed his head on his palms, feeling them covering his cheeks. The image of his smoking dish seemed to be fuzzy in the edges, as he didn’t even realize he was starting to zone out.

… Of course, he was a joke compared to Keith. Keith, the mighty demon-god who struck down the academy’s most ruthless fighter, and Lance, the guy who almost died trying and somehow became a joke because of his… unfortunate antics.

_Keith was the god his father always wanted Lance to be._

It hit him like a lightning bolt, so hard, Lance almost thought a literal one had struck him physically.

Lance really was, unconsciously, beginning his relationship with Keith the same way he had with Vali. Challenging the top student/fighter, for some sort of validity points. For what? To one day defeat him and take his title and then get the praise he so desired?

Growling, Lance closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

This whole situation was just so ridiculous. His mind was ridiculous – _actually, scratch that_ , whatever kind of emotion is literally the stupidest thing ever. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why does Lance’s brain have to complicate everything even _more_??

Midway through his mental rant, Lance was brought back to reality as he felt a sudden weight landing on his left shoulder – a hand, he deduced – followed by a chirpy greeting.

-“Hi, Lance!”

Feeling his skin crawl with the sudden touch and voice, Lance heard himself yelp as he completely lost control over his body. His plate was almost knocked over by his hands, even his tray trembled a little, and Lance was sure he’d fall backwards right onto the cold floor had that hand not steadied him in place.

With a racing heartbeat and wide eyes, he peered up to his left, only to see Coran holding a tray of his own, the look on the man’s face going from a surprised one to a sheepish smile.

-“Oh, my! Perhaps I should have made my presence a teensy-bit more noticeable!”

Feeling his heartrate lower at the sight of Coran, Lance let out a huff from his mouth, his stress melting with it, as his body deflated. In a second, he regarded Coran with a sincere smile. –“It’s good to see you, Coran.”

The man eagerly smiled back. –“And you, too! Say, mind if I have my dinner with you?”

-“No, not at all,”- Lance gestured towards the spot by his left. –“make yourself at home.”

Coran’s eyes seemed to spark before he placed his tray by Lance’s left and took a seat on the long bench.

In the meantime, Lance found himself smiling, feeling like he was eternally grateful that he wasn’t left alone with his thoughts, which he was sure were gonna eat him alive. And being with Coran out of all people? Their quirky teacher who Lance pretty much saw as that one cool yet kind of borderline weird uncle? _Hell yeah, that’s exactly who he needed at the moment._

Amusedly, Lance peered at Coran’s tray, as he was sure he was gonna find a turkey leg the man would just dive in for, but instead he saw… a salad…

Coran seemed to have noticed Lance’s stare, directed right at his plate, because he started to speak up. –“Funny tale, indeed, but perhaps I have not been making… the wisest choices. Allura got me into this new sort of sweet for the past few weeks – leave it to her _sweet tooth_ to find the best of the best – and I may have been… having a little too much of them…”

Pleasantly delving into the topic, Lance casually lifted a brow. –“And a little too much means…”

-“Uhm, approximately… Twenty-seven a day-“

That answer almost got Lance to choke on a bit of his own food he had stuffed his face with. With a hand over his mouth, Lance tried his best to chew it all before gulping it down his throat, and whipped his head to face the older god with a bewildered stare. –“ _Oh my gods,_ _Coran_ -“

-“Well, I _did_ think that because of my godly-hood I would not feel sick alike humans probably would…”- Pursing his lips, Coran placed his elbows on the table an interlaced his fingers in front of himself. –“And perhaps, my theory wasn’t _as correct_ as I thought it would be…”

Having to muffle a laugh, Lance shook his head. –“So, long story short, you feel sick and now you’re under a strict diet.”

That earned a groan from Coran, as an answer. –“Allura worries too much, truly.”

Lance took a bite of his own food, making sure it was of a decent size this time in case of any emergency, and chewed it before he spoke. –“Nonsense, Coran, she’s just looking after you. You know, the same way you’ve been looking after her during all these years?”

His point was taken with a subtly wide-eyed look from Coran, before the man peered forward, wearing a smile, one that, to Lance, looked like the definition of the word ‘fond’. –“That… Is a fair point.”

Somehow, Lance felt pride over that.

Hey, he was feeling in a slump, he’d take any compliment and reassurance he’d get. And being right about something surely counted.

-“ _Howeve_ r,”- Coran continued, startling Lance out of his thoughts. –“I sense I am not the only one in trouble. As in my case, mine is in my belly, and yours seems to be-“- Coran poked the side of Lance’s head with his index finger, briefly. –“Right here!”

Seeing the man taking his hand back, Lance huffed from his nose, sounding like a chuckle. –“You can tell?”- With a sheepish smile, he asked.

-“My, my, that look in your eyes?”- Coran laced his own fingers together again, almost leaning his chin on top of them. –“It’s not the same you usually wear. This one only comes on when there’s something nagging at ya.”

For a second or so, Lance kept staring at Coran, wondering how the man was able to be so intuitive. And perhaps, that would feel like prying from someone else, but Coran… Lance felt like Coran was one of the only people he’d feel comfortable hanging out with.

That was the reason why, after shrugging, Lance felt like he could flush out whatever it was ‘nagging at him’ into the existing world.

-“Well… It’s just frustrating, you know?”- Hugging his elbows, Lance peered at the older god, with a reluctant look, finding comfort in the open expression the quirky god wore. –“I’ve… I kind of feel like everyone around me is just, so, _so_ much better than me, like…”- With a melancholic look, Lance peered away, towards the table top instead. –“How can I even contribute to society? I’m just a walking weight. And before you say otherwise, yeah, I know that speech back-to-back.”

To his side, with a little furrow in his eyebrows, Coran nodded – not so much in agreement, but in understanding. –“Right…”

-“And I guess, I see these people that everybody admires, and I either feel like I’ve gotta beat them at this one thing they’re good at or impress them like my life depends on it. Sometimes, both. It’s like… _free attention_?”- Honestly, Lance wasn’t even sure of that conclusion, hence why he had made it sound like a question.

-“… Lance, you do know that you can find another way of getting reassurance, correct?”- Glancing towards the older god, Lance could see the absolute sincerity dripping from Coran’s eyes, mirroring his voice. –“Sometimes, you simply need to ask! And your friends, they will supply you with it.”

That made Lance send a little smile towards Coran. –“I know that.”- And just when he looked away, the smile vanished. –“But, it’s kind of different. I feel like I have to earn it or it doesn’t count in my head. And what’s the best way to earn reassurance, respect, and all that other than taking on the heavy-weights themselves?”

He saw Coran nod, not in a way he agreed with the point, but in a way that he was following Lance’s rant.

Sighing, Lance hung his head low, his eyes fallen upon his plate still fairly filled with food that was getting cold, a fact he didn’t pay too much attention to. –“And honestly, I kinda don’t wanna talk about how I’m feeling towards that right now. But someone confronted me about it and it’s just…”- With a lazy movement, Lance put both his hands on each side of his head and lead them away as he made an explosion sound with his mouth. –“… Like, in my head, right now.”

In the end of his sort of explanation – hey, it had been the best he had come up with on the spot – Lance peered at the older god from the corner of his eyes, and saw Coran resting his chin on his laced hands, humming.

After a second, he spoke up. –“That is indeed a complicated matter. I _do_ know from experience that no matter how much I’ll tell you that you do not need to actively try to prove yourself, you will never listen…”

Wincing, Lance adapted a sheepish look. –“Sorry about that…”

-“No need for apologies, Lance! In fact, I feel as though you are the one in need for an apology…”- With a rare frown, Coran looked to the side, grumbling: -“ _If the man would listen to anyone **but** his ego…“_

Lance was sure Coran was speaking of Poseidon. He had vented about his father to Coran more times than he could count, only because Coran was there to listen, and cheer him up with whatever creative distraction Coran would come up with that would absolutely end up with Lance crying-laughing.

Other times, when Lance would allow it, they would actually work through it, as Coran would try to get him to vent, and to aid him with his best advice. And Lance had to say, he was really good at that.

Of course, with the years passing, Coran started to grow tired of hearing about yet another ‘great’ show of Poseidon’s parental skills. Lance could see a look in his eyes many times that was far from characteristic in Coran – a muffled, calm, collected anger. One he’d never express, he’d never yell, but it was there.

And in times like these, that resentment showed itself in the form of comments here and there.

-“Either way…”- Coran said, in the same breath as a sigh, and just like that, Lance saw that same anger disappear from the god’s eyes. –“I do feel as though you should understand that, whoever you feel is your competition to beat in that race for self-validation of yours, is also a living, breathing being. They may have insecurities of their own. They may not even be aware you think so highly of them.”

Taking the words of the older god with a heavy look in his eyes, Lance only spoke in a hushed tone. –“I… guess so.”

Huffing from his noise, Coran placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, willing the young god to look at him. And when Lance did, he saw the compassionate look in Coran’s face. –“At this point, I believe the only way you can get past that problem of yours is to really feel as though you have proven yourself through a worthy display of, well, _doing something great_. That because, I know logic cannot get past that thick skull of yours-“

As he said that, Coran curled his hand and gently knocked on the side of Lance’s head, playfully, and right at the same moment, Lance shooed him away with an indignant yet amused ‘ _hey_!’.

Chuckling, Coran put his hand under his chin again. –“Do keep in mind, though, on that epic journey of yours, that you have people believing in your greatness, no matter how much your mind denies that fact.”- He placed a hand over his heart. –“I, myself, could testify for that. I know the great heart you have in your chest, and the right head on your shoulders. There is no doubt in my mind that, at some point, you will make all of us very, _very_ proud.”

The speech coming from the older god had Lance, at first, looking at him with a mildly shocked expression, before it melted into a large, sentimental smile. He wiped away a tear that dared to leave his eye as he sniffed, and shook his head, probably as a way to hide the fact his eyes were watery.

-“Thanks, Coran… I really, _really_ needed to hear that tonight.”

Coran returned the smile. –“Glad I was able to provide the support you needed, Lance! Now, I fear our meals might be getting cold-”

-“Coran… You’re having a salad…”

-“Salads _can_ get colder!!”

 

 

…

 

 

The queen’s room, in the palace, was vast. All its pristine white shine that both the floors and walls sported made the entire room, even at night time, looked and _felt_ lighter. An aura mirroring light itself. There were also details in pure gold, twirling in spots where they took the shape of curled olive branches, or of many flowers and leaves.

Being back to the academy from her holiday quite a few days prior, Allura had already done all the work she had taken with her.

Now, immersed in the silence of the night, Allura found the yellow light of the magic candles of her room’s chandelier to be a little too bright. The way the flames’ light danced over the golden metal that framed her bed’s headboard, hit her eyes all in the wrong ways – and even being someone who loved sparkly things, Allura had to admit it – it was just too much right now.

A damned random scroll was all it took to make her think like that, one that had arrived not even an hour prior.

A call for help. One from the Northern Realms, nonetheless.

The letter’s description of the situation was clear, even in all its mystery. Apparently, they needed Allura’s aid on a situation that had yet not gone out of control, but was slowly seeping into the villager’s problems.

The letter spoke of how in a forest covered in snow nearby a village in one of the realms, one of the simpler ones, a creature roamed in it. The locals, apparently, had stated how this creature was never seen before, nor it seemed native to the northern realms.

That in itself was already extremely concerning.

Then, Allura head read the description of the beast. The villagers who had had the misfortune of laying their eyes upon the creature, would describe it as something out of the depths of the earth. A creature hidden in the midst of shadows, almost looking as though it belonged to them.

_It sounded an awful lot like it fit the Underworld’s aesthetic._

It said that the creature itself already had caused some casualties, mostly hunting at night for those who dared to venture just a centimeter into the forest’s ground. It never set foot on the village, though a little kid had stated they had seen its lime green eyes lurking in the shadows as they watched it from their home’s window.

Truly, it was logical this was of Odin’s concern, not Allura’s. But she was the head leader of the Overworld, the one that said the final word. And Odin himself, not knowing how to deal with the creature – or probably not giving it as much attention as it needed, since it was obvious he had no desire to deal with this himself – had requested her help in the form of this letter.

Another reason given that defended how Allura should look into this, was that this creature seemed as though it had something to do with the Greek Underworld.

That had been the part that had convinced Allura to write back a letter confirming her intentions to help. One that a messenger already was sending to Odin’s home.

Now, she found herself in her room. The dress she had worn that day was already fluidly laying on the soft white sheets of her made bed. She stood in front of it, farther to its right.

The weight of her armor, she felt it over her shoulders: The grand shoulder pads, with thick strings of gold leather coming down the sides of her upper arms, made her shoulders seem bulkier than they were. The breastplate, mostly white, had sections adorned with a royal golden tone, having some sections also painted in pink. The armored skirt, was mostly white, its seams golden, as the detailed buttons on the end of each string. And her armored sandals, with the same color pattern plus pink, mimicked the design of her bracers.

She placed her long pink cape over her shoulders, feeling the air lifting in its wave behind her back. With gentle fingers, she connected the cape with two golden buttons on the upper part of her breastplate, one on each side of her.

As her cape fell to accommodate her back naturally, Allura closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, feeling her constricted chest rise and then fall.

-“I _must_ do this.”

She had to. She was the queen, that had been the burden entrusted to her, and even though it was one she had always been willing to take, she had been forced to take it too soon.

And the crown she always wore, one that seemed alike a stick of an olive tree bathed in gold and put around her head, with a light blue crystal in the middle, fallen right onto her white hair, it was the usual thing she was used to wear.

Now, that crown laid on the side of her nightstand, bathed in the grim light of the full moon.

Right now, she had to wear something else. Something that cost her to place on her head, not so much for its bulkiness or weight, but because of the emotional weight attached to it.

To her left, in the corner of the room by a mirror and her walk-in-closet, was the armor stand where she kept hers. However, now, most of it was undressed, showing only its sticks, its skeleton. But its head, there a large helmet rested.

It was a classical Greek helmet, its visor open, its sides coming down to hide its user’s cheeks. There was no bit of metal coming down between the user’s eyes, though, it only tilted down on a smooth triangular shape, almost taking the shape of furrowed eyebrows.

Its mostly golden top rose to the sky until it gave way to a stiff plume, coming from the right to the left, rising to the air at least for about forty centimeters. That plume was white, mostly, having its top golden, alike two strips almost by the end of each side.

Everything Allura had worn, it was hers. The crown, the dresses, even the armor had been built to fit her.

That helmet, however… It did fit her well, but it hadn’t been only hers.

-“I am… Still hoping for the day I feel entirely worthy of wearing your helmet, father…”

Her faint tone went to the air of the night, almost looking for an answer, yet it didn’t get it.

It wasn’t that Allura felt as though she wasn’t worthy. She knew she was doing the best she could, but… She was no Alfor. She hadn’t, in her mind, even reached his heels yet. It felt invasive, wrong, to wear such a headpiece of a being that had been way more than who she was, in terms of might, in terms of spirit.

Yet, Allura reached forward, and gently took the helmet in her hands, as if such sturdy object was delicate. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes as she elevated the large helmet. For a couple of seconds, she let it stay there, in the air, hovering above her mane, until, slowly, carefully, she started to descend it.

The helmet perfectly fit her, in such regal movement it felt almost as if she were being crowned.

Feeling its weight settling over her hair, as some wavy bits of it still escaped out of the back and sides of the helmet to hide her neck, Allura opened her eyes again, the bright blue of them looking just like the contrast of the blue stone in her crown against the gold of its rest and the white of her hair.

And where before in her eyes was reluctancy, nervousness, now, now there was determination, confidence.

With an elegant yet fast stride, the queen made way to her bedroom’s double doors, pushing them open with ease.

Just as she left her room, leaving the doors to close by themselves, the two soldiers standing on each side of the door followed her, trying to keep up with her pace.

The soldier on her right spoke up. –“Your Highness, situation report, if you may?”

-“The Northern Realms require my assistance. Beast, no armies, though it might be connected to the Underworld.”

-“Understood, your highness. Permission to rally the troops?”

Just as the soldier asked, they were already down the main stairway and were approaching the main entrance. There, the large golden doors were open, guarded by another pair of guards. These, both, had a long axe on their hands, which they had leaned forward and crossed, on top, making an ‘x’ with them. An effort to show that no one was meant to pass through, even though the doors were open.

However, at the sight of their queen, she did not need to utter any word, not even to send them a look nor a nod. They simply, elegantly elevated their axes, holding them vertically to their sides as the queen and the soldiers quickly walking by her sides passed through the entrance.

As they were making their way down the outside stairway that lead to the palace, Allura spoke. –“Permission denied.”

The soldier frowned. –“But, Your Highness, will we not leave immediately?”

As she asked such question, she noticed that she, her queen and her colleague had arrived to a huge circle just before the palace’s grand stairway. The portal.

-“I will,”- Allura finally answered, as she had now stopped, and was turning around to face the soldiers behind her. –“but you, won’t.”

A grimace appeared in the soldier’s face. –“… Your Highness, with all due respect-“

Respectfully, Allura held up a hand. –“I’ve made my decision. I will be able to take care of this situation on my own. Do me a favor and warn Coran for me. I have left a note on his chambers addressing the situation. While I’m gone, respond to him.”

It was with a little reluctance that the soldier elevated her palm to her forehead in a salute, just like she saw her colleague do. –“Yes, Your Highness!”

Regally nodding, Allura turned back around. As she walked towards the center of the portal circle, she raised her right hand in the air, almost curled.

In response to her gesture, the skies above seemed to grow darker out of nowhere, just above her head. The greyness of them started to grow untamable, as a low rumble started to be heard in its wake.

All of a sudden, from the grey sky, a blue bolt of electricity crackled downward, at the speed of light, its aim certain – the hand the queen had elevated.

As the electricity of it made contact with Allura’s extended hand, the blue lighting started to run through her entire arm, as in the background the sound of thunder roared louder. The blue flash also flared through her grip, extending into the air beyond the sides of her hand, resulting in a flash of white light appearing there as a long stick.

Once the white glow vanished, a golden and white spear appeared in the queen’s hand, the design of it sharp, with twirling designs as her armor. The blue electricity of Allura’s lightning still ran through the spear’s body, and continued to as before the queen’s feet, a round bright light started to appear out of the thin air – the portal was being activated.

It stretched until its light was slightly larger than the queen herself. It looked like what humans would describe the passage to the afterlife be – a blinding white light calling for them. Only that in the fading edges of this one, the same static energy that ran through Allura’s spear was also running through its borders.

With one last grounding exhale, Allura gripped her spear close to her side. Just then, as she opened her eyes to face the light, wearing a determined, grounding furrow on her eyebrows, and a firm look in her eyes, she stepped forward, into the blinding light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Allura goes on a mission, and we learn more about her powers, and her past, as well as its connection with Coran and their relationship. We get to see Hunk and Lance's friendship, and how it all began. In the end, two boys who Really need to talk to eachother, try to do just that. Hopefully it goes well for them...
> 
> It will be out in about a month, by the way, on the 13th, if things go well!
> 
> As always please show your support if you'd like, since it really is a motivation for me to write. The more support I get, the faster I'm able to write these chapters. (Because, I'm not going to lie, I've been stuck on writer's block for a bit, and some encouragement would be nice.)


	5. To Understand You

In a cabin, mostly made of logs and bit of stone, a row of gods rested by the burning fireplace. A welcoming source of heat, compared to the freezing cold outside. The windows all around, the glass, was stained with frost on its edges, almost blocking the view for the shallow snow layer that covered the maze of dirt roads outside.

In the living room, gathered by the fireplace, was a main couch, one entirely made of wood, having clean pelts laid over them to serve as cushions. The same went for the living chairs on both sides of it, and even the carpet itself was a pelt of a before large animal.

The family of gods living in this simple home, consisted of a lanky woman, who wore a loose outfit mostly made of leather, and a small brown pelt over her shoulder, as a small cape. The other woman was taller, wearing Viking armor, with bits of iron implemented in it, and a larger pelt falling down her back, of a silver color. When the first one sat by the main couch’s left, the other sat on the living chair to its left.

Finally, on the living chair opposite to that, sat a little boy, probably bearing only seven centuries on his back. Shyly yet attentively, he was looking to his left, to the couch, where the remaining spot was filled by an unfamiliar face to him. A goddess whose armor already shined brighter than the fire in the fireplace before them.

-“When did you last see it?”

Facing the question from the Queen of the Greek Overworld, the kid seemed scared to speak up, as if the creature itself had personally threatened him to keep his mouth shut. Slowly, his gaze diverted to his mothers, looking for any sort of comfort, for encouragement. And with smiles, they nodded, giving him exactly what he needed so he could look at the queen again.

-“Three nights ago.”

Right after his tiny voice responded, the Viking with the iron armor spoke up, gathering all the attention in the room towards her. -“The little one said it stared right at his soul. Didn’t move, either, it just stared for a tad more before it blinked and suddenly, it was gone.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Allura hummed, before she glanced back at the kid. –“And was that your only encounter?”

The kid sharply nodded.

Right then, a sympathetic look appeared in the queen’s eyes. –“If you may – and only if you want to…. Could you try to describe it to me?”

Facing the question, the kid put his clasped hands by his tiny knees, his legs rocking a little. When his eyes seemed to wander the room as he brought those memories of the creature back, he visually shivered.

-“… Big, an’ scary…”- He admitted, in a small voice, as he looked up to the queen. –“It had big glowing eyes. I… think they were orange.”

-“Did you see the rest of its body?”

A look appeared in the kid’s eyes, one almost sad. He looked down at his little hands, noticing they were constantly fidgeting without him even knowing. In a small voice, he admitted: -“Not sure…”

Empathetic blue eyes observed the little boy, as Allura herself clasped her hands together on her lap. She felt for the little kid, as having such an experience in such an early age surely was something that would stick for, perhaps, years. And yet, even showing obvious signs of fear, the little trooper still rummaged through his memories to relive that frightful memory just to help her find the creature.

So, that little look on his face, one that made it seem he was sad for not being able to answer to that last question, broke the queen’s heart.

-“It’s alright.”- She assured him, with a kind look, mirroring her voice tone. –“You were already a great help for my mission.”

It seemed like the moment the queen had spoken, the kid’s eyes lit up, sparkling in a child-like wonder. A smile caressed his face, while his expression continued timid.

In that moment, the woman sitting by Allura’s left got up, heading straight for the boy. –“Come on, darling, why won’t we try to go to bed?”

Fear seemed to flare through his expression once more. Which was understandable, as the last time he had seen the creature, he was in his bedroom, looking out the window to find two glowing orbs staring right at him.

-“But the-“

-“It’s alright, honey.”- His mother smoothened, offering him a kind smile as she picked him up in her arms. –“The Queen is here to keep us safe. Say, I do have a new bedside story I saved for tonight, would you like to hear it?”

As if there was a switch, the kid seemed to forget all his fears, and before the proposition, he sharply, excitedly nodded, making his mothers chuckle.

It took only a moment for the lady to cross the living room with the kid on her arms, looking over her shoulder. As she passed by the other living chair, his other mother reached a finger to poke him in the nose, making him chuckle, half-heartedly, surely, as it seemed sleep was already beginning to envelop him.

Once the kid and his mother were already climbing up the stairs, Allura watched them with a faint smile on her face. Such caress and soft intimacy reminded her of the times she could remember being his age, and the way her parents raised her. They were her best friends for a long while, along with Coran.

However, Allura didn’t have much time to dwell on her past life’s memories, because the remaining Viking turned to her, wearing, now, a serious look on her face.

-“Further reports from other sightings say the beast is at least as tall as a store and a half of a cabin. It walks on all fours, and its hind legs are shorter, but all of them slim. Some say it has the snout of a bear, but others say it don’t have a defined face at all.”

Allura winced at the description. -“That’s… unsettling.”

-“Skin-crawling, if you ask me.”- The Viking shook her head as she leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. –“One young man got away from its grasp by just a hair. Said it was like a smoke cloud that somehow had a body.”

-“My goodness… Do you have any idea what this creature might be? Or how it came to be, especially here out of all places?”

-“I’ve never’ seen anything like it, nor do I want to, if I’m gonna be honest with you, Your Majesty. But if I can put my finger on it, I’d say this is something the Underworld has. Not sure how it came to be, either, but if it’s here, it’s either lost or it’s a strategy of the Underworld to try to conquer our realms.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Allura focused her gaze on the flicking fire before her. –“Whatever that reason may be, I’ll find this creature, and put an end to this.”

The warrior bowed as she said: –“Thank you.”- There was a pause. –“Now, the night is young, my wife is putting our darling to bed… You’d be welcome to join us for the night, if you do not have any place to stay in.”

Regarding the kind offer, Allura peered at the Viking, smiling. –“It would be an honor to stay, thank you.”

 

 

…

 

 

Shiro’s couch was so, so comfortable and very much expensive-looking, for sure. The earlier, it was a good thing, though, because Keith was absolutely exhausted.

The entire day had been a handful. It had been the day Keith was finally allowed to participate in fighting class, and he had to say, it was nothing compared to his training in the Underworld. It was basically just some sort of physical activity class, not specifically only fighting – sometimes for their lives, like it had been back home.

For once, it was a free class, and apparently some gods started to play some games by throwing a ball around – _how could that even be fun_? Throwing knives at targets or enemies, now that’s an exercise, Keith thought.

Though… It was nice not having the feeling of always having a metaphorical blade pointed right at his neck.

However, Keith hadn’t actually participated in that free class, because he spent the day being monitored by their trainer, doing many physical tests to ‘access his stats’. Whatever that was supposed to mean. It began with endurance, by running, and running and… running even more. Then he did some pushups and sit-ups and so many types of exercises Keith wasn’t even sure they had a name.

Point was, he didn’t even touch a single weapon. He didn’t even get to throw a punch. _What a useless class_ – one that absolutely murdered his apparently out of shape butt. Not that he would admit that out loud.

Maybe he should start training by himself when he had the time… The Overworld was turning him as soft and as squishy as a marshmallow.

Feeling like his limbs were made of noodles, he groaned, eyes hazily staring at the ceiling. Though, the sight his eyes were seeing caught a movement to his left, by the back of the couch. And suddenly, he saw _and_ then felt something smooth fall unexpectedly on his stomach, urging a surprised ‘oof’ out of his lips.

Quickly, he lifted his head to look forward, catching the sight of the object over his belly, and frowned. –“What the Underworld’s this?!”

Behind the couch, Shiro crossed his arms, as he regarded his student with an unimpressed gaze. –“That’s a book. It’s got words in it and you’re supposed to read them-“

-“I _know_ what a book is, _Shiro_.”

The grumpy answer made a teasing smile appear on Shiro’s lips.

In the meantime, Keith grunted, moving his noodle of an arm to grasp the book. With it in his hand, Keith lifted it up, brining it vertically considering his face, and squinted at it. -“But what’s it about?”- He peered at Shiro. –“And did you _have_ to let it fall on my stomach?”

-“Yes, it was absolutely necessary to let it fall on your stomach, or else you wouldn’t have acknowledged it,”

Regarding that, Keith diverted his look back to the book’s cover, pursed his lips and shrugged. –“That’s fair.”

-“ _And_ , it’s about the Eastern Realms. Especially your realm.”

Having his eyes settled on the golden title above the marron cover, Keith passed his fingertips under it, reading the title out loud. –“‘ _The Dragons’ Nest_ …”

-“Yes!”- Shiro let his arms fall, grasping his waist with his hands. –“You are Dragon Born, right?”- Keith slowly nodded, even though Shiro already knew the answer. –“I’ve been to The Dragon’s Nest before. It’s really beautiful there, especially the main temple, where Disciples learn anything from typical fighting techniques, to spiritual enhancement and, they can even get to interact with actual dragons.”

That last part had Keith blinking out of bewilderment, before he looked up at his mentor with the most wide-eyed, child-like expression Shiro has ever seen on his face. –“Like, like with- with _big lizard-dragons_?! As in you, you c-can _pet an Actual Dragon_??”

Chuckling, Shiro observed the glowing look in his student’s eyes, and shook his head. –“Of course _that’s_ the part you’re excited about.”- A smile. –“But yes. I figured it’d be good to get you to read this, on your free time. You’ll learn more about your other culture, and your powers. Who knows, maybe we’ll find the reason why your power’s acting up within that book.”

Keith’s eyes settled back on the book on his hands, then. That being said, the little excitement in his look only faded to a subtler amount, though it was still there, as he observed the illustrations in a darker shade of marron on the cover.

It showed a different side of his disciple. One that was youthful, something that was to be lost the way he and many others like him were brought up to be – warriors from young ages, with little to no time to get to be kids and teens.

It was only after a solid minute of silent wonder Keith faintly uttered, without ever letting his eyes leave the book: -“Thanks.”

Smiling, Shiro nodded. He watched as his disciple opened the book with a gentleness he didn’t know the younger god had, and watched as Keith observed another illustration, this one of a large dragon and a god, in front of a serene landscape.

However, that peaceful aura that enveloped the room was broken the second there was a hurried knock on the door. While Keith didn’t seem too bothered, still in his trance, Shiro raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the door, a second before he decided to walk over to it and see who it was.

Shiro heard another set of knocks as he approached the door and rotated the doorknob, just so the door could reveal-

-“… Coran?!”

On the outside, back turned to the darkness of the night, the older god stood with a rigid posture, his right knuckle mid-air – ready to knock again on the door had Shiro not opened it. And fitting his posture, his expression was one of distress, with dark lines under the usually cheerful god’s eyes.

Said appearance made Shiro regard him with an intrigued furrow. –“Uhm, is… everything okay, Coran?”

Apparently, Shiro’s voice managed to get Coran to unfreeze his body, as he seemed to visually relax a tiny bit. –“Greetings, Shiro!”- Nervously chuckling, Coran shuffled his hands behind his back. –“Why would it not be?? Now, may I walk in a little tiny bit-!“- He said, just as he walked past Shiro.

Turning around to follow Coran’s trail, with a suspicious raised eyebrow, Shiro closed the door behind his back. –“Sure, uhh… Make yourself… at home?”

Silently, Coran walked past the back of the couch and sat on a living chair to its right. He leaned forward, forearms on his thighs and hands clasped. It looked like his glossy eyes were focused on the emptiness in front of him.

Warily, Shiro let go of the doorknob, and proceeded to walk right back into the room. He noticed Keith still was silent and already deep into reading the book, which gave him a pleasing pride. Shiro walked past the couch, and the arena between the living room and the kitchen, where a dining table was settled. There, he grabbed a chair, lifted it just above the ground and brought it to the living room.

Quietly, Shiro settled the chair between Keith’s couch and Coran’s seat, the back of it facing the middle of the living room. Shiro sat facing the back of the chair, folding his arms on top of its back and rested his chin on them.

-“So…”- He quietly began, as he peered to his left. –“You look stressed, Coran.”

The man kept looking to his fidgeting hands as he chuckled nervously. –“Oh, why would I be stressed?! I just had the roughest day running the academy, for starters, and now that I have time to rest, my brain keeps reminding me how Allura is out there fighting _a terrifying monster_ somewhere in the middle of a snowy haunted forest!”

Sympathy took over Shiro’s features. –“Woah, I’m so sorry about your day, Coran, nobody deserves to- _Wait, ALLURA’S DOING WHAT?!?”_

Right after his loud outburst, followed an exasperated ‘SHH!’ coming from his study room, which made Shiro wince. Right, he had almost forgotten how Slav was deep into research mode.

So, with a lower tone, yet with the same bewilderment, Shiro repeated: -“The queen’s doing what, now?!”

Releasing a long exhale, Coran’s expression fell, as he now did not even attempt to hide his worry. –“She got a scroll coming from the Northern Realms this afternoon, speaking of a dark creature terrifying citizens in a lesser realm.”- He admitted, with a low tone, eyes not leaving the floor beneath his feet. –“It said it picked them off during the night, and it already had a small dozen of victims.”

He took a pause to shake his head as he creased his eyebrows, but after a second or two, Coran continued. –“Allura, of course, as the representative of the Overworld, got there to take a look. But… It’s been over a day and I have yet to get news from her. And though I know she is one of the most powerful gods around, there is a certain part of me that still fears for her safety. Not from a part that doubts her skills, certainly,”- He grazed his palm over his heart. –“but from a worry that comes from fondness.”

Hearing the confession, Shiro regarded the god with an empathetic expression, and spoke with a soft tone. –“I figured you two were very close. I just didn’t know how much… Until now.”

Sparing a glance at the other god, Coran wore a sad smile as their eyes met for a brief second. –“Well, of course! I was the one who took care of her ever since both her mother and her father…”- With a twist on his face, Coran stopped himself before he looked away, not being able to bring himself to say, aloud, the fate of his former close friends.

-“Hey- Hey, it’s okay, Coran.”

Shiro’s encouragement willed him to continue, after taking a deep, uneven breath.

-“Well… I was there even before that, if I were to be honest. I watched her grow from a little smiley child to the respected queen she is today.”- He peered up at Shiro, who nodded. –“When she had to take up her mantle as queen, I was there in Alfor’s place, both in the ceremony, and after. I tried my best to guide her just alike Alfor would have.”

-“I felt as though… It was my job. One that did not only fall upon me, but one that I would gladly take, even if I didn’t need to.”

It felt almost like yesterday, hearing the little princess’ laughs amongst the palace’s halls, as her mother would warn her to not get into too much trouble. They all knew she wouldn’t, of course – at least they hoped she didn’t.

Coran remembered as he watched her play in the palace’s gardens, her eyes shining as she took in the various colorful flowers it had to offer her, or the little critters that such a lush garden would attract. He remembered watching her play with the dirt in one of the gardens, as he couldn’t hide his bright smile.

He remembered, as Alfor stood next to him, crossed his arms, and regarded his daughter’s shenanigans with a smile as bright as Coran’s, uttering something about ‘kids being kids’, while in the same breath saying how much this little god swelled his chest with pride. Apparently, even when she was doing something as simple as having fun.

And Coran, he could never disagree with his best friend, not about his daughter, at least.

-“You… you’re kind of like… In a way… kind of like a father to her…”

Allowing Shiro’s soothing voice to bring him back to the present as little Allura’s laughs still echoed in Coran’s head, the older god faced him with a strained smile. –“I… suppose so, in a way…”

For a silent moment, Shiro observed him, with an attentive gaze as if Shiro was analyzing him, or even better, seeing through him. There was always this thing about Shiro that Coran recognized as something that made him always understand others. His attention to detail proved to be phenomenal time and time again, and they had barely interacted that much.

And just as though he was filling his role, Shiro began:

-“I understand how it might feel – to know that someone we care so much about is in danger. That worry, that _restlessness_ – it’s… It’s tough for us. To push through.”- He peered at the older god. –“But, we can’t let it sink us, Coran. We have to feel hopeful for them, we have to believe in them.” - Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed, then. –“I’ve… gotta be honest – I’ve never seen the queen fight, but just by standing next to her you feel this… radiating energy, something that tells you you’re standing by an entity that holds _so much power._ “

Lifting his head from his folded arms, Shiro observed Coran, now, with a bright, encouraging smile on his face. –“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, Coran. _In fact_ , I think the one who should be worried is the creature.”

The little humor made Coran chuckle, this time, genuinely. –“Deeply inside, I know that. Though, still I worry… I always worry whenever a new burden falls upon her shoulders. I take as many away from her as I can, though it’s still not enough. The struggles Her Highness has gone through… They’re… _unimaginable_. She hides it well in fact, but I can tell how so much of it affects her, and her existing troubles.”

Taking in the information, Shiro heavily exhaled, as he leaned backwards and passed his hand through his face, and his hair.

-“She seems like the kind of being who is always there to help.”- Coran nodded at the statement, proving its legitimacy. –“Even _me_ , a complete stranger. I’m just glad to know there’s someone out there who cares for her, too. Something tells me, from the few things I know about her, and the even fewer interactions we’ve had, that she – _like all people_ – needs someone there to support her, too.”

_… I don’t want to go back to the Underworld…_

_You don’t have to._

Closing his eyes, Shiro heard the queen’s voice still echo through his mind, replaying their exchange of some nights prior. And though he felt a comforting feeling, he also was faced with heaviness. Because… It felt like he had been the one to take from that moment. And even though he might have needed the hand reaching out for him, he was nowhere near aware that perhaps that hand also needed to be reached out for.

The queen had offered him something Shiro hadn’t felt in a long while – safety, in the Overworld, away from his captors. And what had he offered her? Another burden to carry around? To worry about?

It was, however, good to know that someone as Coran was there to worry, because from what Shiro had seen, other gods wouldn’t seem to notice her own suffering. They would turn to her for guidance and leadership, and upon seeing such powerful entity – in all senses of the word – they wouldn’t even wonder if she was ever going through tough times. They would just assume that such mighty entity was always doing great.

It should have been obvious something else was going on.

The face he saw when Allura had looked at her father’s statue, the aura he felt hovering around her… There was a sadness there, one that felt so familiar to Shiro’s, and yet it was so different – from different circumstances.

He figured, as he knew, that not even the most powerful beings were in such a high enough place to not have anyone or anything backing them up.

And knowing this, then, maybe Shiro had to step up – just because it felt like it was fair, an equal exchange. Allura had offering him a hand glowing with light and hope. It was only fitting to pay the spiritual debt, when the favor needed to be repaid.

-“Say…”- Shiro spoke, after a long moment of silence had taken over the air. –“We’ll let another night pass, and if we still hear no news from her, we could send a little party to the realm to access the situation. Sounds good, Coran?”

Letting out a quiet exhale, Coran nodded to himself, before he glanced at Shiro. –“Yes… That’s- that’s quite reasonable.”

At the thankful smile Coran sent him, Shiro responded with another kind one, as he nodded.

-“Uhm, sorry to interrupt, but…”

The sound of a third voice had Coran immediately perking up, as he glanced slightly to his right, at the couch, with a now lively expression. –“Oh, _Keith_! I haven’t noticed you were there at all!”

With the open book settled on his chest, Keith regarded him. –“Yeah, as you can see, I blend into the couch really well.”- With a ghost of a smile, he gestured between his dark clothes and the pearl/white and gold couch. –“Anyway… What did you say about the creature?”

It was almost like whiplash, as Coran’s mood seemed to shift almost entirely, now that he had another distraction to fill his mind with. -“Oh, uhm! The letter speaks of a terrifying monster that blends into the mantle of darkness of the night, and uses it as an advantage to hunt its prey!”- Coran swung his fist in the air as he exclaimed so. –“It speaks of its piercing glowing gaze, and its sharp limbs. Quite daunting, if I could say.”

Humming, Keith furrowed his eyebrows.

-“Sounds familiar?”

Regarding Shiro’s question, Keith glanced at him, and then back to the side, still looking thoughtful.

-“I can’t know for sure, because I’ve never seen one… Like, directly. But I’ve _heard it_ this one time I was a kid and got lost in the deeper parts of the Forest of the Dead.”- He looked back at the other gods. –“It let out this shrill shriek, it was so loud and inhuman that I completely froze for a second or two, before I ran the other way – and never looked back.”

Coran lifted his eyebrows in surprise, and then with sympathy, he lowered them. –“Oh, my… I’m quite sorry, young lad-“

-“No, no, it’s fine.”

Sighing, Keith shifted on the couch, laying down even more, and allowed his indigo eyes to stare at the ceiling and the strained shadows that the lighting in the room cast on it. -“When I got home, I tried to explain it to Thace. From what he could tell, it was an ille- _illusive_ creature that’s kind of like – a _hell-beast_ , but it’s totally far gone. Some say it’s a hell-beast’s spirit, but I don’t know if that’s accurate.”

-“Huh… I spent years in the Underworld and never heard of one.”- Shiro admitted. –“Don’t think I ever saw one, either.”

-“Yeah, because most Underworld folk think it’s a myth or extinct.”

Shiro trailed his hand under his chin. -“That explains it… Though… Do you know anything else about this creature? A weakness? A- a trait?”

Taking in the question, Keith narrowed his eyebrows at the ceiling, trying to recall one. –“Only that it’s a sort of predator lurking in the shadows. This one ancient book Thace showed me called it a… a _Drahímonás_. It didn’t have much about it there, either. Only that on the end of the page it said to never look at its eyes, or... really bad things would happen.”

-“Oh!”- Coran nervously chuckled for the hundredth time that night. –“Would you look at that! I feel my _nervousness amplifying_ once more!”

Noticing how he probably only managed to worsen the situation, Keith winced, as he looked up at them with a grimace. –“Oh, uhh… _whoops_ …?”

Right at the same time, Shiro huffed, as he got up from his chair. –“It’s alright, Coran. Take steady breaths – in and out.”- He placed a light hand over the older god’s shoulder. –“If you feel like it, you could stay here tonight. I could keep you company.”

Looking up at him, Coran offered a sheepish expression. –“If that isn’t too much trouble…”

-“It’s no trouble at all.”- Shiro assured, with a kind smile. At the same moment, he moved a little forward, and sat on the ground, next to the other god. –“Now, follow my lead, let’s try to calm your breathing. So, _one in_ -“

 

 

…

 

 

One night had passed since Allura’s arrival to the Northern realm. And for now, she did not have had the need to grab her spear, nor her shield.

The last night had been spent in the cabin of the family she had visited. As a small cabin, it only had two rooms, both of them occupied, and that seemed to have been a dilemma for the family, but not for her. For a night or a few, she could curl up on the couch and rest.

That was exactly where she was at the moment. And truthfully, this wooden couch was the stiffest thing, a fact that kept the queen from sleeping peacefully. Shuffling once more, the queen switched her position so she was now facing the ceiling. With little effort, she shifted the warm blanket she had over herself to her waist, placing her clasped hands there.

With creased eyebrows and hazy eyes, the queen observed the peaceful shadows the grim light from the moonlight cast on the ceiling. If there was a device to measure time near her, she would be glancing at it, but with none, the queen was left to wonder how late into the night it was.

Probably over one in the morning. Dawn should be arising in some hours.

The only thing she could hear was the occasional creaking of the wood, being it of the house itself or from the already burnt charcoal in the fireplace. Sometimes, she’d hear the occasional whistle of the winter’s wind outside.

And such quiet atmosphere, in a time of the night that made the world feel so surreal, Allura found her mind wandering.

Her thoughts fluttered everywhere. To the academy, to the Olympus, the war, the Underworld, all the other realms… and even Coran. By the gods, she hoped he was doing alright. She knew better than anyone how draining it was to deal with the academy’s affairs, especially now-a-days.

Of course, in the same thought, she also hoped the Underworld’s god wasn’t doing another stupid thing right this moment, because she would swear to all the gods that ever existed that she would kick him out or into oblivion.

Although, maybe that wasn’t the wisest decision, considering there was a diplomatic meeting in a few days, with many gods representing main realms, including the Underworld. And the worst part was that Keith’s presence was a must. Allura had to admit it, this was another thing to worry about.

Wearily sighing, the queen allowed her eyes to close. There were other times to think of future endeavors, but right now, there was only one problem she had to face – one that seemed to not want to face _her_.

So, instead, her mind let itself run, not wild, but with peacefulness. Alike the spring wind that would blow the trees’ blooming flowers into the air, or the shallow string of a small stream that would fall over smooth river rocks.

It didn’t take long for Allura to hear such a peacefully familiar yet distant voice in her head.

 

_-“You must be gentler, my dear.”_

_A layer of white glow stained the memory with softness, one that didn’t seem too out of place considering the scenario. All around them, was an open field, one as colorful as a full, bold rainbow. A flower field, as vast as the eyes could see. And before it, behind Allura’s back, was a colossal mountain with visible buildings on top._

_Mount Olympus._

_In front of her, however, an entity stood in the way of the line of the horizon, where a vivid pink met the sky’s baby blue. The man had features so much alike her – the crystal white hair, which on him, was smaller and tied to a small ponytail; and the bold blue eyes alike hers. A soft white goatee caressed his face, a noticeable contrast against his brown skin._

_With a youthful smile, Alfor watched his daughter holding a mushed flower on her hands, and looking absolutely devastated because of it. At twelve-centuries-old, Allura looked much alike how she did in the present, though here, beyond having child-like features, her cheeks were slightly chubby._

_Alfor could say many things about his little daughter, all of them coming from a place of joy and pride, being that a flaw or a quality. The fact Allura was such a hothead even as a kid was definitely something that amused him until his last day, and even though he was sure that was a trait that was there to stay, she also needed to learn how to deal with situations delicately when needed._

_So, patiently he waited, as he watched her frown at the mushed pink flower in her tiny hand._

_-“Even more??”- She ended up arguing, looking up at her father._

_Without losing the smile on his face, Alfor kneeled down to her level, and brought up a hand to gently tuck a strand behind her ear. –“Yes, even more.”- When he finished, he let his arm fall on his right lifted knee. –“My daughter, there are things in this world that must be handled with the greatest care, if you do not wish to destroy them.”_

_Little Allura scrunched up her nose. –“But, it’s… just a flower…”_

_-“Indeed, it is, making_ it _a living creature. The worlds, they’re filled with beings of destruction. To balance them out, there must be other beings, those carrying the gift of creation.”_

_Amazement seemed to wash over the princess’ features. –“Like grandpa and grandma!”_

_Chuckling, Alfor nodded. –“Yes, like grandpa and grandma,”_

_Just as he spoke, Alfor reached for a small satchel by his uniform’s belt as little Allura curiously peered at it. After a second, he fished for what he desired, and extended his knuckle forward towards Allura, just to then turn it around to reveal a bunch of seeds._

_-“And just like them,”- He continued. –“we must give back what we’ve taken.”_

_With curiosity plastered in her eyes, Allura leaned forward to inspect the tiny objects on her father’s hand, before she lightly tilted her head as a tiny frown appeared on her face. –“I do not remember taking… these.”_

_Feeling his heart swelling with fondness, Alfor huffed. -“These are juniberry seeds. Though it is true we did not take any seeds, we did take some juniberries, did we not?”_

_Allura firmly nodded._

_-“Well, then, we, as entities of creation, must replenish them, so others will grow in their place. Does that reasoning make sense to you?”_

_-“Yes!”_

_Such answer, uttered with little to no time to think, made Alfor chuckle. –“Perfect. Now, first, you must dig out a little bit on the dirt with your hand-“_

_Time seemed to fly by as Alfor explained to her the process of how to plant the seeds of the flowers properly. Allura had attentively watched him and then proceeded to kneel on the ground and try to copy his demonstration._

_It took her a little while to get it right, and a little bit of help from her father here and there, but the last seed Allura had planted had been with no help nor mistake at all._

_-“Alright,”- Said Alfor, as he began to stand up and dusting his hands off at the same time. –“I believe we’re all done here.”_

_With a huge smile, Allura, still kneeling, patted the dirt over her last seed just a little bit more to make sure it was well tucked. Then, she took the freshly picked bouquet of flowers into her tiny little arms. Before she could even make a move to get up, Alfor offered her his hand, which she took in an instant, knowing she would struggle to get up herself as she was carrying so much flowers._

_After that, they were off, back into the trail that lead to the portal’s circle._

_-“Did you understand why we planted those seeds, my dear?”- Alfor questioned as he took her by the hand._

_-“So the flowers can grow back!”_

_-“Exactly. There will be times we’ll need to do this, to more than just flowers.”- He stopped then, placing a hand on her shoulder. –“We are creators, healers, and beings like us, the world lacks. It is a heavy duty to have on our shoulders. One that I cannot force you to carry, though I ask, are you willing to?”_

_Perhaps a child could be unsure about said question, but Allura feverishly nodded nonetheless, with a wide excitement in her eyes. That got Alfor to chuckle, as he patted her hair. This one was going to do great things, he was sure of it. But for now, he was going to let her be a kid. Said decision would really be made when she was older and more aware._

_After that exchange, they kept walking towards the portal, as silence fell in between them. In the distance, they could hear the melodical chirping of birds amongst the breeze, and the rustling of leaves. The smells in the area were vibrant, each field of flowers having their own specific scent, most that seemed to attract honey bees to them._

_-“Do you think mommy will like these?”- Allura asked eventually, hopefully looking up at her father._

_And Alfor, he smiled brightly. –“I’m sure she will love them, Allura. After all, you were the one who chose them.”_

 

Alfor’s last words seemed more like haunting whispers that ran through Allura’s ears alike the wind – calm yet incredibly wistful. Shivers ran through her whole self as the feeling of being right in that flower field was swept off her feet, as her senses were forced to adapt themselves to the atmosphere that was really around her present self.

That was when she felt something.

A feeling that seemed heavier by her right shoulder, though she was feeling nothing touching it. It was the same sensation one would feel when a presence or energy would be felt near them, and most times, they would see nothing.

Understanding so, Allura quickly turned her head to peer at the source of said feeling, and yet, she found nothing but the grim emptiness of the room. That, and the moonlight that seeped into the room through the window on the wall behind the couch’s arm.

Squinting, Allura stared beyond the glass, into the darkness of the road it unraveled. Though as it was a full moon night, everything was actually well lit, so she could see, perfectly, the shape of the road, the outline of the forest in the distance, and slightly to the right, another cabin, really close.

However, no matter how much she looked right through the window, her eyes still found no culprit to that feeling, that presence she felt.

Frowning, the queen turned back to her previous position and pushed the blanket up, as she wiggled her arms under it.

Perhaps the lack of sleep was starting to get to her. In gods, it had some effects, even if they were light and most times looked over, ignored, but in situations like these, perhaps she shouldn’t risk it.

With that thought in mind, Allura softly exhaled, allowing her body to deflate on the couch. It was time to stop thinking of the ghosts of the past and the ones in the present.

And even if this presence was something to go by, something she should take an account for, she still couldn’t do anything but staying inside. The ladies who lent her a roof to sleep under had told her about some past victims being lured out of their houses for hearing or feeling strange things. Once outside, in the dark, the beast would do its deed.

Allura couldn’t possibly do anything if she was playing by the creature’s rules.

Almost as in cue, a distant scream broke her train of thought immediately, making her jolt up.

With wide awake eyes, her senses amplified, as she froze for a second or two, allowing her mind to access the situation. That scream sounded distant, yet close enough to be in the village or in its outskirts. And the voice behind it was fairly human-like, which probably meant it came from another god.

Probably a villager. One that sounded immensely distressed.

That note was enough for Allura to throw her blanket away as she hurried out of the couch. In a rush, she placed her armor on, which was previously resting by the left living chair. It took her a solid minute to have everything in place, especially the breastplate, but alas, she managed to be ready in a record time.

Or, almost ready.

As Allura was frantically pinning her cape to her armor, she peered over at the coffee table to see her father’s hefty helmet, the golden parts of it reflecting the moonlight brightly.

With sourness in her expression, Allura pursed her lips as she closed her eyes shut. This helmet was not meant for her, no matter how much Alfor wanted to entrust it on her hands.

So, the helmet stayed, right where it rested, as the queen rushed through the cabin’s living room, kitchen and right towards the front door. Quietly and with care, Allura spun the doorknob and peeked outside. Spotting no threat nearby, she took a step outside and gently closed the door with a silent thud.

Now outside, the chilling breeze of the winter’s night felt colder against her Greek armor, an effect that her cape managed to block just a tiny bit. However, the queen did not let a little cold stop her, not when her senses were all in mission mode.

Swiftly, the queen walked close to the walls of cabins or fences, deliberately walking with caution to not let the snow beneath her sandals make much noise. She was headed to the left, where the window of the cabin she had been in was facing.

There were no fresh tracks on the snow, nor on the main streets or parts of the soil she could see in the night. Torches lit up the streets grimly, behind glass and brass cases, and even so, some were already extinguished.

Still trying to calculate where exactly that scream had come from, Allura kept investing into the darkness, on the outer roads of the village, where the light of the torches lessened. Her ears were in alert mode, so she was hyper-aware of every sound she would make or hear, and somehow, there was no other scream, nor voice… Only the whistling of the wind.

That was, until she heard something faint.

Crunching. Faint, with a rushed, clumsy rhythm. Something her ears managed to recognize as running footsteps through snow.

That sound kept seeming closer and closer, until it was clear. Allura simply waited for who or what was causing it, with a guarded posture, ready to face whatever it was.

And it happened to be a young villager who almost ran right past her. But he stopped, some steps behind her, and she turned to see him. Allura observed with caution his expression, one wide-eyed, his irises looking smaller than they should. If by any means an artist wished to ever paint a visual representation of pure fear, those eyes would be the ones to go on canvas.

Recognition flared through his face then, as he recognized who he happened to just run past. Heavily and unevenly breathing, the young man managed to point a shaking arm towards the direction he had just come from.

-“T-there, You, Your H-Highness. The, the _beast_ -“

That had been enough for Allura to firmly nod at him – as a response that she was on the case – and understanding, the young man took that as a cue to run off to safety.

Turning back around, with creased eyebrows, Allura invested down the street. It took her no time to notice how the buildings started to end by her sides, as she was running past the outskirts of the village, and right into the forest, where this road seemed to be leading itself to.

It was then that she eased her pace, noticing the world around her. Over her, the sky was of the darkest blue, alike the depts of the oceans. The number of stars seemed to be greater, these looking as though they were filled with life, blinking in constant rhythms.

Underneath her feet, the solid, almost icy ground stretched as far as she could see, to both her sides. It was plane, until it met the horizon. And while behind her was the lit-up village, with smoke coming from chimneys that fluttered into the sky, the forest before her seemed darker than any other she had ever seen.

By the gods, how that forest radiated such an unpleasant energy – one opposite to Allura’s. And she felt it, more and more, as the queen kept walking forward.

Until she came to a stop right in the middle of the field that separated the town from the woods. Standing tall, the queen lifted her head, the breeze blowing her hair in every direction. She seemed to almost shine in comparison to the darkness all around her.

Static, in the form of sound, was the first thing Allura captured. Faint, yet it was there. There was something dark clashing against her aura, something that tried to push past it, yet never managed to.

However, her eyes still did not spot anything. So Allura, she shut her eyelids, lifted her chin and with furrowed eyebrows, she allowed her senses to concentrate. She figured that she couldn’t possibly spot anything, especially if it was in the forest – so, she decided to _feel_ for it instead.

With perception on the highest, the queen knew there was already something there before she even managed to see it either way. That static sound and feeling, it was an indicator of such. A presence, one of a darker energy seemed to be observing her from the shadows. One… behind her.

Just like how she had felt behind her shoulder when she had been laying down…

Acting upon instinct, Allura hastily opened her eyes as she whipped around and-

She didn’t have much time to process what her eyes had unraveled – only a lump of darkness with two glowing orange orbs staring right back at her soul, before it was moving at an alarming speed, right towards her.

Allura barely managed to dodge its attack, as it leapt in the air to fall right over her, but she managed to duck away just in time. She felt her attacker pass over her head before it crashed into the snow as it let out a sort of whimper.

Turning around, Allura had some seconds to finally take it in.

This was definitely the creature she was called to take care of. Even fallen and struggling to get up, the creature was large – maybe even taller than her. Its body was somewhat a mix of a bulky built – mainly its chest – and a lanky one, like its skinny members. Its hind legs seemed smaller, though all its paws sported incredibly long claws.

And its head… Allura couldn’t quite distinguish what it was. Depending on the way the shadow-y smoke that was seeping out of it moved, it took all sorts of snout shapes, all of them bizarre and unnatural. Sometimes, it even seemed almost human.

No matter what this thing was, Allura was simply sure of one thing: This creature had to be from such place as the Underworld. It looked almost like a shadow, a solid one, as darkness smoked out of it.

When it managed to get up from its fall, the creature shook itself as a pet shaking off water or snow from its fur. Just after that, its eyes set right back into Allura’s, as both entities were surprisingly at eye-level.

And its gaze, so bright and orange, yet dressing such dark undertones behind it, seemed almost hypnotic.

As a siren’s song, it was almost as if it was pulling Allura in, or even better, trying to lull her into giving up – on her consciousness. She had not been warned of such trait, but the back of her mind cared to archive this as one of its powers – a hypnotizing gaze.

One that as much as it tried to, it could never take over the queen’s consciousness.

With furrowed eyebrows, instead of trying to look away, Allura lifted her chin as she glared at the creature’s gaze and held it, just to see for how long the creature would take to notice how its tricks were not working for its new opponent.

Many entities – humans included – would fall in the creature’s stupor for a moment or another. Those who wouldn’t would be a rare find, however these entities would be undoubtfully labeled as some of the most powerful beings in existence. Zeus would have never fallen for it, and as such, almost no one with his blood would.

It was then, in this silent competition for power, that Allura felt the creature’s aura turn impatient. It certainly was now discovering how this new victim of its ambush had actually become a real opponent.

In other words, if it wanted to win this time without whimpering away, it would have to stop using its preferred ambush nature, and get out on the actual field to fight.

And Allura knew one was coming, sooner or later. So, in that moment, she reached her right hand towards the skies and the scenery above started to quickly shift.

Clouds that had not been there started to materialize above her, going from a silky light grey to a heavy, darker grey in only an instant, as the beginning of a thunderstorm already started to brew with low rumbles.

In a second, a blue flash sprinted in the skies, right down below, towards its summoner. As on cue, a tremendous rumble sounded into the air as the lightning blast hit Allura’s hand. It ran down her arm, until its electric rays ran through her whole body.

Light soon ensued to come out of her raised hand, extending itself until it was slightly taller than her own height, and her spear quickly shone into existence.

This time, however, that wasn’t all. Allura held out her left hand to the side, and there, a glow alike the one of her spear started to appear until it took a perfectly round shape, going side by side from her knees to the beginning of her chest – a white and gold shield.

In the end of the whole transformation, not only were Allura’s weapons glowing brightly, but so was her entire self – as a beacon in the night. As humans would see Zeus.

 

And such bright light made the creature whimper, as it visually winced. As shadows would when faced with the sun’s shifting light. Allura stood then, tall, holding her gaze, as if she was beckoning the creature to make the first move.

Suddenly, its eyes started to glow in a frantic manner, as a low growl rumbled in its throat, one that, as it opened its mouth, turned into a loud, long screech that echoed through the entirety of the field.

It was inhuman. One that surely belonged to a creature that would cause night terrors to children, and even adults. That, however, did not make the queen flinch the slightest bit. The only thing that screech did was to spark a new determination in the creature – one that worked alike a war cry that fueled a spartan with raw, brutal energy.

It was with no margin of hesitation that just then, the creature raced right towards the queen, making Allura prepare herself for impact.

Just when the creature’s head was too close, Allura wacked her large shield against its left side, urging a screech out of it as the dull clank rang in the air. At the same time, Allura brought up her spear and in an oblique jab, she stabbed it right above the beast’s shoulder. It felt surprisingly solid.

Twisting it free, Allura spun as so she was now behind the creature, in a decent distance – a safe one.

It seemed the stab had had no efficient effect. The creature took no time to recompose itself, as no liquid nor visual wound seemed to be on its shoulder. Only the same dark smoke.

Practically no time at all passed as the creature spun around with ease and with no further noticing, it started to lunge at her yet again, its movements nearly sloppy. It was clear this creature was more of a hunter than it was a fighter – considering its wobbly stance and slim figure.

In the meantime, Allura prepared her shield to absorb one more attack, however, this time, when the beast got close, Allura avoided its ramming attack – and at the same time, she swung her spear low, in front of its front legs, making it fall on the soft snow.

Taking this chance, she shifted the way she was holding her spear, holding its tip downwards now. Holding it midair, the static electricity that randomly flickered down the weapon’s body, now just crackled, intensifying itself. In only a second, Allura’s own eyes glowed a lighter shade of blue, one that perfectly mimicked her lightning’s color. And the spear in her hand, was covered by its electricity, almost looking like a sparking harnessed lightning bolt.

Her arm visually trembled as Allura help up her spear, as the power within it was pleading her to let go of it, as if she were holding back thunder – as she controlled it. Instead, with a loud grunt, Allura brought her spear down on the fallen creature before her feet.

Although, instead of the spear’s tip meeting the creature’s strange mass, it sunk into the snow and the ground. The beast had managed to leap away in the last second, leaving the ground exposed to the electric charge that had gone down the spear, which even melted the snow and ice near its touch.

Grunting once more, the queen pulled the spear away from the soil and placed it upright to her right, as she faced the beast with rageful eyes.

This was taking too long already. Maybe fighting it, especially right now, wasn’t such a good idea. It would just drag and drag and almost no progress would have been made.

Therefore, Allura decided she had to end this as quickly as possible. One large blow like the one she attempted to deal was all it would take. She just needed to land it.

With that plan in mind, Allura sprinted forward this time, instead of waiting. She held her shield slightly to her left, but in front of her, and to her right, she carried the spear facing forward.

Close to it, Allura prepared her spear to not miss this time, but even before the electricity in it started to spark, the beast swatted at her with its slim paw, landing a hit across her shield that sent her flying to the left.

It felt like falling into squishy cushions as Allura’s back fell into the soft snow, its temperature almost not bothering her because of the adrenaline caused by the fight. Heavily breathing, Allura blinked, noticing the weight of her shield over her, and not feeling the grip of her spear to her right.

What she did see in front of her eyes, beyond the stars and the galaxies, was the creature already midair, coming down right towards her as it opened its smoking mouth.

A dull clank sounded in the night as the creature’s whole weight – which surprisingly was a greater than expected – fell right over Allura’s large shield. The impact had urged all the air in her lungs to rush out of her mouth with a huff, yet the queen was livid.

Trembling, she held the shield as upwards as she could, so she could gain distance between herself and the creature was that now biting and clawing at her shield, trying desperately to get to her.

With a continuous growl, building up as much as her power, Allura held her shield in place as she felt it in her chest - her power harnessing itself. With her brightly glowing eyes, their color as frantic as an electric charge, Allura looked right into the creature’s own irrational eyes right when her power let go of another charge. This time, as loud thunder crackled in the background, Allura allowed her electricity to flow through her arms and right into the shield, as she jolted it upwards with a final push.

What she had intended to do worked exactly as she planned. The charge electrified the beast for about three seconds, as it let out a pained screech, and as she had jerked her shield up and forward, the creature was the one sent flying.

Breathing heavily, as blue static light ran through her shoulders in an aleatory way, Allura got herself up with the help of her shield. In the middle of the action, she also managed to take a moment to lean slightly to her right to pick up her spear.

As she stuck the spear’s tail into the ground, she leaned her weight on it, as her intense gaze traveled right to the creature once more. And the sight her eyes found evoked a wave of melancholy that washed over her features.

The beast was laid in the snow many steps before her, its back turned to her. Its body, despite of its height, looked smaller than usual as it trembled in the snow – smoke oozing off of it that not only was its own, but also came from the burns the electric charge had caused.

Allura was no Zarkon. No matter her opponent, such sight would always ignite a spark of empathy in her.

It was just a lost creature. It was confused, out of its home. It was unaware of what it was doing – its eyes – it looked so far gone. Enveloped in the Underworld’s darkness. Corrupted by Zarkon’s power.

 

_You must be gentler, my dear._

Her father’s distant voice rang in her head just as the thunder in her eyes eased.

Now, looking at the trembling being trying to desperately stand, barely managing to, Allura could see it in a new way. While before, she saw it as a creature of darkness, one that was terrorizing citizens of this realm – and in fact, nothing could change that – now, almost curling on itself, it didn’t look like the mysterious mighty hunter she was supposed to hunt herself.

It looked just like another creature. A wild dog to a child’s eyes when they would stumble upon the creature in the middle of a forest.

It did not look like the supernatural predator it was made to be. It looked like a being of darkness, surely, but one that felt – pain, anger, what have you. But it felt – it had a consciousness buried deep behind its gaze. It wasn’t like a demon – unreasonable wicked creatures that only served pure evil above themselves. _This thing was different._

Fitting, Allura answered her own father’s voice with the only answer her mind allowed her to think:

_I’ll try._

Letting her decision seep deep into her conscience, Allura closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. And then she was running, rushing forward in the same posture she had previously invested: shield in a protective stance and spear facing forward.

Noticing the advance, the creature scrambled to get itself on its feet, letting out a warning low screech. Even so, Allura didn’t seem to want to stop, so the beast sloppily jumped to the side, avoiding the incoming shield.

Just when Allura turned to her left, to face it, it was already leaping at her again, giving the queen no second to breathe.

All seemed to happen in a matter of seconds after that.

Allura hastily dropped her spear to the side, counting only on her shield as a way of protection. In the last millisecond the beast was midair, its open mouth facing her directly, as their eyes met.

And Allura leaned her shield to her left, leaving herself completely open.

She extended her right hand forward, upward… And then contact was made.

Her hand landed perfectly on the creature’s forehead, and as magical as it looked, the creature’s feet did not meet the ground as Allura’s hand started to glow brightly. The light that radiated off of her blew the smoke coming from the creature’s head away as if it were wind itself.

The last thing Allura saw was the wide look on the orange gaze that observed her alike it hadn’t before. With panic, revelation, bewilderment. Until Allura’s eyelids closed.

Feeling the beast frozen in place, hovering in the air, Allura felt the winter’s wind rush all around them, as if they suddenly were a subject of its attention. Even with her eyes closed, Allura could feel the amount of light that was coming off of her hand – even like this, it felt almost blinding.

In reality, the light coming from her hand started to flow through the creature’s body, until it enveloped it entirely.

When Allura felt that her light had started to dim down, she noted how it had felt like a lifetime had passed since she had closed her eyes, but in fact, only about five to ten seconds had. Blinking, the queen allowed her gaze to set back properly, until she was met with the stare of two orange eyes.

These were already at eye-level with her, rather than looking down on her when it was leaping at her. While before in the glowing eyes was nothing but a blinding glow, now there were irises, dark as the night. And how serene they had looked – almost _rational_.

Standing back, slowly allowing her arm to fell to her side, Allura took a good look at the new creature.

Its body had not scaled down, though its legs were now on the same height. Its body was still black, but now it didn’t look like it was a solid shadow, rather, its body was made of the Underworld’s iconic cracked obsidian, and in between those cracks, she saw a lava colored with strings of both purple and orange.

The creature standing before her, it was a wolf. A creature of the underworld, a hell-beast.

Watching the sight, Allura took a long, deep breath, feeling the toll that her light cleansing power took on her energy. From all the usages of her power, the one of healing and cleansing were surely the ones that took the most out of her.

But that didn’t seem to matter as Allura smiled at the hell-beast.

-“You are free now.”

She saw understanding in the wolf’s eyes. A thankfulness, gratitude.

It didn’t take long for Allura to collect her things and leave the field of battle, heading right towards the village with the magma wolf following her right behind.

Where they passed, villagers who had been woken up by the loud sounds of the fight, gazed at them in pure shock, some warily opening their doors to join her in the streets, while others didn’t want to take the risk.

When they arrived at the center of the village, Allura spotted the typical circular shape of the portals. Turning around, Allura took a mental note of all the villagers gathered all around the area, as well as how in the horizon, there was already clarity. Dawn was soon to be here.

Yet, Allura’s eyes landed on the wolf’s own.

-“Do you wish to return home?”

Surprisingly, her hushed question got an answer from the creature. It responded to her by slowly blinking, its head tilting almost nothing downward.

Nodding, Allura stepped forward, and with her spear held high, a portal was evoked, as the villagers stared in wonder.

She watched the creature, then, walk past her and into the circle, where the portal raged. It glanced back at her over its shoulder, before it stepped into the blinding light, which after, on the other side, would be met by an unseeing darkness. Allura made sure she had opened a portal that, on the other side, evoked itself on the most far from the Underworld’s center place that she could find.

After the creature disappeared into the light, the portal vanished.

-“That was the monster?!”- She heard a voice utter in the background.

-“Why wouldn’t it be dead, then?!”- She heard another, almost as a response to the other voice, but also as a question towards her.

With no hesitation, Allura turned back around the regard the fairly-sized crowd that had gathered around the village’s canter. –“This creature will bother you no more. Though I am not yet sure how it managed to slip into this realm, I am certain it is a native of the Underworld.”

She noticed some unpleased noises coming from the crowd, which made her furrow her eyebrows.

-“This creature – it has nothing to do with the Galra, nor the Under-Lord. It is simply a creature native to the Underworld. One that let the Underworld’s new corruption take over itself – hence why it appeared to be in such a demonic state. I cleansed it with my powers, and I believe it will cause no more harm for a long, long while.”

Though the crowd seemed reluctant, they also seemed to be slowly accepting her choice.

After all, a creature that lost its reason because of others, should only be punished for its bad deeds for so much. Allura knew, of course, that the Underworld, it wasn’t the same place Hades ruled over. This one was darker, more uncontrollable. Corrupted. And the corruption the Under-Lord brought to his land, made things like this happen.

Allura couldn’t blame a simple magma wolf for the pain the Under-Lord’s corruption brought to it, nor its blindness. If there was a bigger culprit to this, that had to be Zarkon. And if fate, if karma really were existing forces in the universe, then Allura was sure these forces would help her in the future – to bring justice to the Under-Lord’s doors.

But for now, she had to deal with whatever was in the middle of that journey.

One of those things, was one she remembered today. That as a queen fighting for light, she seemed to forget how one creature’s whole alignment could change, with a bit of help, and with a lot of its efforts. War made her see things as black and white, urging her to forget how quickly such alignments could shift – because the universe itself was made to be that way, something that was constantly changing.

And as the being she was, in Alfor’s simplified words, _she needed to be gentler_ – as in a way of, needing to know how to deal with a sensitive situation with more than just her hotheaded demeanor, her spear and a lightning bolt. Her shield was there for a reason.

That would not only go for her, but for every other being like her. And Allura, she remembered those words now, and understood the weight of them, the message hidden behind them.

And as one of the only sources of a bright, strong light left in the world, she would honor her purpose. This, this was more than a terrible, bloodthirsty war. This was about balance – and restoring it. This was about saving lives, no matter their background. This was about healing.

Those had been her principles from the start. It was time to remember them again.

 

 

…

 

 

Shiro’s place had been a great distraction for Coran. Shiro had come up with a game after willing Coran to calm down, and both them and even Keith played it for a while, until the younger god of the three had to go to his place to sleep – after all, he had classes the following morning.

And after Keith had left, Coran didn’t feel like he wanted to intrude any longer. Shiro was trying his best to be entertaining but it was clear he was growing tired – the way his eyelids looked heavy were a great indicator of that.

So, Coran excused himself, assuring Shiro that he was feeling alright, and thanked him for the hospitality. Now, Coran was in his room, in the palace. Yet, he couldn’t really sleep, so he was sitting in bed, with his back against the headboard and the covers over his lap.

The only light in the room, besides the moonlight seeping through the open windows, was a candle that was lit by his nightstand, one he used to be able to read. However, if Coran was going to be honest, sure, he was reading the words, but his mind wasn’t even making sense of them. He was too distracted to focus.

His mind couldn’t stop worrying, even though Shiro’s previous words were managing to ease his thoughts a little. Coran, he lost a lot of people in his life, especially when the war started. His best friend was probably the jab that cut him most. Allura, she was truly all that was left for him, out of those who he truly loved. And even though he greatly trusted in her impeccable skills and power, he didn’t really know what he’d do if he lost her, too.

With bags of worry under his eyes, Coran gently passed his fingers by them, blinking a few times.

In that same moment, he heard a solid knock on his bedroom’s door, which immediately willed him to snap his head towards it. –“Come in!!”

The sound of creaking followed by the door opening, and from the corridor’s darkness, a guard entered the room. -“Apologies to disturb you, sir. Though you asked me to report back to you when Her Highness, the Queen returned-“

The guard did not even need to finish their sentence. Coran was already tossing his book to the side as he whipped his covers away and jumped out of the bed all in a matter of seconds.

-“Yes! Yes, yes! I did! Many thanks-!”

As Coran spoke, he rushed past the guard, who turned around to see him go down the hallway.

-“Uhm, Her Highness is at the entrance hallway, sir! The… other way.”

Coran immediately stopped on his heels down the corridor and whipped around, starting to rush to the opposite side he started to run towards. -“Right!! Of course!”

He passed by the guard with no hesitation as they slightly bowed, and started to sprint down the halls. The images he captured were blurry – of only doors and walls and hallways, most of them only lit up by the moonlight or dim lights.

When Coran arrived to the main, great stairway that lead to the second floor, he ran down them quickly and clumsily, caring to support his hand on the handrail just to be sure not to trip. Halfway, he was already looking down at the bottom, where a group of guards was gathered around a figure in the middle, already dishing out responsibilities and orders.

-“Your Highness!”

Coran’s voice willed the other people in the hall to stop and look up at him. The guards moving out of the way revealed Allura in the middle, who, noticing Coran, smiled warmly.

At the same time his feet hit the bottom floor, the queen made a gesture that allowed the remaining soldiers to disperse, leaving plenty of room for Coran.

He rushed past the soldiers and stopped himself in front of her. But just at that moment, he seemed to freeze, hesitant, his widely emotional eyes looking for a response. And when Allura’s smile widened as she extended her forearms to the sides, it was all the answer Coran needed to take her into a tight hug.

They held like that, still, strongly, for a long string of seconds, before both simultaneously let go, slowly.

Coran sniffed then, the motion of his nose tilting his mustache as he passed a finger by it.

That made Allura frown. –“ _By Zeus_ , Coran, are you feeling alright? Did something happen?!”

-“Oh, no-“- Coran widely waved with both hands and he stopped to sniffle a little more. –“Not, not at all.”

Said reassurance did not seem to drain the concern out of the queen’s features. –“Are you sure?”

-“Yes, I am! Though that is not the matter as of now.”- Allura raised an eyebrow at him, but did not question him. –“The matter is, are _You_ alright, Your Highness?? How did the situation resolve??”

Regarding the question, Allura sighed wearily, glancing to the side. –“My suspicious were correct – it was a creature from the Underworld.”- She crossed her arms. –“Though I’m still not sure how it invaded that realm, I did notice its state wasn’t as it should have been. It was… unbalanced, tilting towards darkness. I fought it for a little until I realized just that, and when I got the chance, I cleansed it and sent it back to the Underworld.”

-“My goodness…”- Coran breathed. –“A creature that is ‘ _far gone’_ – into darkness! Perhaps Keith was right. It could have really been a _Drahímonás_ …”

He honestly shouldn’t be too surprised Allura had been the one god who managed to somehow fight such a telltale being and come off the fight without a scratch.

The queen creased her eyebrows, adapting a quizzical look. –“…. Keith? You spoke to him, Coran?”

Nervously chuckling, Coran united his hands behind his back. –“ _Well_ … Earlier this evening I might have been feeling quite antsy about your departure towards such a _frightening mission_ …”

The look in Allura’s face softened from something guarded and suspicious, to sincerity. –“Coran, I can handle myself.”

-“I know you can, Your Highness. Though I still worry… And do not mistake me, it is not because I doubt of your skills – I greatly believe in them.”- He placed a hand over his chest. –“This worry, it comes from a place in my heart, one that I felt towards Alfor as well. It comes from fondness…”

Huffing, Allura smiled kindly as she took his hand, and held it with both of hers – a gesture of care and reassurance. –“I understand. And I feel just the same way, many times. Coran, I’ve…”- Briefly she lowered her head and closed her eyes. –“You’re the only family I have left.”

She had more uncles and aunts, sure, but some she had never met, and others, she didn’t really speak much to. Coran, even though he wasn’t family by blood, he was just the same to her. Like an honorary uncle, or even better, a father.

Although the dark bags were visible under Coran’s eyes – which made him look to be in a weary, gloomy state – he still smiled warmly, as he placed his free hand on top of hers. –“And you are mine. As such…”- He let his hands fall away. –“Even though I do not think I will ever be able to stop that worry, I must fully cling to the trust I certainly have in you. It was what Shiro had advised me to do… I believe I must try to not grasp to such negative worries.”

-“I’m glad you feel that way, Coran – and I know why it’s hard for you to not expect the worse results. For as optimistic as you usually are, I know that… there’s always that turmoil inside…”- Allura’s voice lowered, to a tender, low tone, as her expression. –“The one I saw in your eyes when you told me… of father’s fate.”

Half-heartedly, Coran huffed, as a sad smile caressed his face. –“I tried my hardest to hide it that day.” – He crossed his hands behind his back again, glancing to the side. –“It seems I wasn’t able to.”

-“I don’t think anyone with a heart could.”- Gently, Allura placed her right hand over his right shoulder, making him peer at her. –“Now, we mustn’t allow ourselves to dwell on the past for so long.”- She took her hand back. –“And how come you spoke with Keith? And Shiro?”

Feeling the atmosphere lighten, just like Allura’s tone as she inquired those last questions, Coran felt his own aura shifting.

-“Oh! Right! As I was saying, I felt as though I needed to do something to distract myself with, and since I did not want to alarm any student nor distract any guard, my mind fluttered to Shiro. As I have told you, he was of great help the days you were on break.”- He placed a hand on his waist as he brought up the other to twirl his mustache. –“Plus, I did enjoy his company.”

-“So, you thought of paying him a visit.”

-“I sure did.”- Coran lowered his hand to his waist. –“And when I arrived, not only did I find myself distracted, but Shiro also managed to get me to vent – which I must recognize… I needed it. Oh, and Keith simply happened to be by his couch when I came by.”

A light expression appeared on Allura’s face, then – one mirroring relief, accompanied by a smile. –“I’m glad they were able to calm you. In fact, I think I should pay them a visit shortly.”

Coran nodded. –“Though not right now. While you do not look exhausted, I can see how the battle took a toll on you. You should probably-“

-“Rest.”- Allura completed. –“I know, Coran. But… before that, do you think we could head to the kitchen and have some tea? Like old times?”

Coran smiled, remembering how they used to do that any night Allura couldn’t sleep, because of her parent’s absence – both before and after the war. Coran happened to want a bit of tea one night, and they both found that sipping a bit of it just some moments before dawn was actually quite peaceful – feeling the world still on its pre-waking-up state, and the quietness that came with it.

-“Of course.”- Said Coran. –“Just like old times.”

 

 

…

 

 

_Lance was in his room. Not the one in the academy, however. He was home._

_He was sitting on his bed, chuckling. His voice sounded higher, more child-like. His height was smaller, as his built. In his hand, he had a little figurine, one made of marble. It was a dragon. He was not sure why, but ever since he was little, he was drawn to that monster of the skies._

_Nobody questioned him, though, so, nor did he. He waved the toy in the air as he got up the bed, making flying_ and _dragon noises as he ran through the fairly-sized room. Not as large as the one on his father’s palace, but this one felt cozier._

_A joyful laugher erupted from him, as he tripped and stumbled because of a chair’s foot, but kept on going. It was then that he arrived to a desk he had on the left corner of his room, and that furniture as well as shelves over it, were completely filled with his things, and many, many toys._

_But he eyed just one. One of which seemed that a sunray coming into the room’s window decided to highlight – and only it. In Lance’s mind, it only deserved such grace from the sun._

_This statue was a humanoid warrior. They held a sword as long as their height, its tip touching the ground. With shining eyes, Lance carefully placed his hand over his hero’s figure, and he couldn’t help but to notice his breath hitch._

_Looking at it, right now, he felt an emotion that swelled up his chest. It wasn’t negative. It wasn’t pure happiness, either. It was something he later found out to be called admiration. Such feeling was brought to him, by the sight of the toy, because the tales behind who that toy represented were nothing short of legendary._

_The Guardian of the Skies, many called him. The one faceless soldier who rose up to be a hero – one who the world had never seen before – one kinder than any beings thought a warrior could be before. An inspiration, who, against all odds, remained bright, and kind, and thoughtful._

_Never had Lance felt so stuck up in anyone’s legends the same way he had about Commander Shirogane’s feats. No other hero he had heard about caused this sort of reaction on him. He supposed, it was because all those heroes he heard about were simply what they were – hyped up warriors who slayed monsters who didn’t need to be slain. Fighters who raged bloodthirsty wars that did not need to take place._

_Not Shirogane, though. He would try his best to stop any violence before he would even think of evoking his sword. He would respect any creature, no matter how dangerous it would be. He would try to understand not only the side epic songs used to worship and deem glorious, but the opposite one, as well. And any other._

_Because of that, and much more, he was loved by the people across all the Earthly realms. Needless to say, Shirogane was everything Lance aspired to be. To learn from._

_So, it was like that, with a huge smile, that he snatched the figurine by the waist, gently, while keeping the dragon on his other hand. And after that, the usual would be to rehearsal a glorious fight between the beast and the legendary warrior._

_Instead, the scene little Lance decided to play out was one filled with tenderness, and emotion. One where the legendry warrior would more than tame the wild creature – he would befriend it, try to understand it, and help the world to understand it back._

 

At the random memory that crossed his mind, Lance smiled.

It was a bittersweet one, he felt. Because right after that memory, it would come another. Of the day he found out that the hero who he thought would bring peace to the entire world, was defeated in battle by the symbol of pure evil.

Lance inhaled from his nose, slowly, feeling his breath catch, unevenly, for a moment.

Now more than ever, he would have loved to hear another story of his hero. Now more than ever, when he felt as though his worth was at its lowest, he would have loved to hear about his childhood hero’s smile, and heart that promised to conquer the world – just like he had set himself to do so.

It appeared the world would really scoff at the face of that. And Lance hated it, how the world always had to take such gritty turns. Of course, nothing could be a sea of roses… But a little petal here and there would be appreciated.

He was leaning over a wall, arms folded on his chest, and had a distant look in his eyes. It was the middle of morning class, and they were at the break. Truth be told, he knew he was zoning out. And when he realized that, as well as how a tear suddenly dared to catch his eye – _where did that even come from?_ – he started to slowly hear the noise all around him again.

-“ance?”

Blinking, with a semi-startled expression, he peered to his right, where he saw Hunk leaning against the wall, Pidge standing across from him, and further, between both, was Keith.

All three seemed questioning, and worried, especially in Hunk’s case.

-“Woah, you okay over there, buddy?”- Hunk asked as he placed his left hand on Lance’s shoulder, the others behind him peering at Lance with curiosity. –“Oh, gods, Pidge I think he’s zoning out again…!”

-“The bad kind or the normal kind?”

Regarding Pidge’s question, Hunk lifted his eyebrow as he tilted his head, still observing Lance. –“Possibly bad?”

In the meantime, with crossed arms, Keith confusedly lifted his eyebrows. –“Wait, what’s going on??”

Lance heard his voice speak before he even ordered it to. –“Noth-“- He stopped himself as he winced a little at the high-pitch tone his broken voice took. Shaking his head, as to wake himself up further, Lance placed a knuckle over his lips and cleared his throat. –“It’s nothing. Guys, come on, chill out…”- Leaning his right side against the wall, Lance folded his right arm on his chest as he gestured to himself with his left hand. –“I’m fine.”

Hunk narrowed his eyes at him. Of course, leave it to Hunk to see right through him. –“… Right…”- Hunk slowly said, as he glanced to the side. –“By the way buddy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”- He peered back at Lance. –“ _Privately_.”

-“Ooo, sharing secrets~”

Rolling his eyes, Hunk glanced to his right. –“Pidge…”

At the reprimand, Pidge put her hands up in surrender, as Keith confusedly observed the exchange with a furrow of his eyebrows. -“Sorry, sorry.”- She said.

Huffing, shaking his head a little, Hunk looked back at Lance. –“C’mon.”

Lance really couldn’t argue, so he just waved at the other two before he followed to the direction Hunk pointed to.

They ended by a small storage building, where they could still see the other two standing around the hallway in the distance – apparently both Pidge and Keith seemed to be immersed in conversation, even though it was obvious they were stealing some curious glances at them from time to time.

Noticing that, Lance blinked, staring at them, as by his right, Hunk leaned his back against the wall as he crossed his arms. It didn’t take long for Lance to mirror his posture by leaning on the wall, yet he kept his eyes on the others.

-“So…”- Started Hunk, as he peered at his friend. –“Pidge told me about that night you guys argued-“

Just the mention of that one night in which Lance and Pidge had that argument, had Lance dramatically slide his back down the wall as he loudly, tiredly groaned.

-“ _Oh Hades_ , here we gooo…”

-“ _Lance_ , come on, buddy… We’re all worried for you.”- Hearing Lance let out a hybrid of a groan and a whine, Hunk sighed as he shook his head. –“You wanna talk about it?”

Lance clicked his tongue, without bite, but more as a hint he was giving in. He adjusted his posture upwards again, and with folded arms, he shrugged. –“What’s there to talk about?”

-“I don’t know. Anything you want to.”

Observing his best friend’s distant gaze, as his eyes seemed to be trailing forward, Hunk lowered his eyebrows. He knew Lance would completely shut off about emotional things that concerned him, especially if they were heavier than a feather. It wasn’t something bad, per say, because Hunk couldn’t really blame Lance for shutting off his emotions like that. It… came with years having them shut down – a thing that, as Lance’s best friend, Hunk knew a lot about.

Poseidon’s words of ‘ _a worthy warrior won’t whine because of a little bit of pain’_ , or of ‘ _I cannot deal with this right now, you must learn to control those so-called emotions of yours_ ’ were some of the older god’s classics. Sayings that Lance would tell Hunk while venting, and Hunk would try his best to debunk them and to assure Lance he was allowed to feel, no matter what. And by no means, Lance was about to not feel, because that just wasn’t him. However, it did make him hide those things, even to those who were more than willing to listen.

And Lance… Words stuck to him like scars. Hunk knew how he couldn’t shake them off his head for too long. Not when distractions weren’t working on Lance.

Having no response from his friend, Hunk pushed on. –“… We’re friends, Lance. You can tell me anything, you know that, and I promise to keep my mouth shut.”

That was what got Lance to glance at him, with a suspicious eyebrow raised.

Which got Hunk to grumpily huff. –“What? I _like_ to know about gossip but I don’t dish it _out_!”-Hunk had extended both palms slashing forward as he had exclaimed that, but when he finished, he shut his mouth in a thin line and paused. –“Well… like… when it’s _serious_.”

That got a little huff from Lance that sounded like a brief laugh, as he smiled and shook his head.

-“To be honest, I’m not even sure where to start from…”- As Lance exhaled deeply from his nose, he leaned back his head, feeling the firm yet smooth marble behind it. –“I’ve been thinking a lot, lately. Like, everything’s changing, just in a spawn of two or three _weeks_. And I don’t know why but it’s making me feel…”- With a slight pause in his speech, Lance lowered his head slightly as he cast down his gloomy gaze. –“ _weaker_ … Than usual.” – Pausing for a second, Lance ended up shaking his head. –“No, no, that’s – that’s not the right word. More like, powerless…?”

It took some seconds for Hunk to respond. When he did, he hummed. –“I feel you, buddy.”

That… That was not what Lance was expecting. Peering at his friend, Lance raised a brow. –“You… do?”

-“Yeah.”- Hunk quietly admitted. He wrinkled his nose just as he admitted so, and quickly passed a finger under it as he sniffed. –“It’s always been like this for me, though. I just realized I wanted to change that now. I felt like I was… Like I’ve never actually stood up because I was too afraid to.”

 

_-“You are a_ pathetic _excuse of a god, kid.”_

_At twelve centuries old, Hunk really did not have much confidence in himself. He wouldn’t say he was a quiet soul, because truly, he wasn’t. Back home, in Egypt, he had a fair number of friends._

_That… wasn’t so much the case when he first joined Olympus’ academy._

_It had all seemed so much different. Hunk had no idea where to go, either, because the academy seemed to be so huge. And he hadn’t even been supplied with a map! It had been fair to say it wasn’t his fault he literally clung to Allura the entire first day, as she was giving the new students a tour through the academy. Hunk was thankful the princess found it sweet how he literally had to hold her hand during at least half of that day, and he only let go when she told him that his new teacher, Coran, would take him from there._

_Turned out, Coran was actually a pretty great character to be around. Despite of his quirkiness, Hunk found the god’s antics fun, and his generosity unending. That couldn’t be said as much towards some of his classmates._

_And by some, that meant a particular Norse god who was somehow a tiny little bit taller than Hunk, and the kid looked at least three to four years older than everybody._

_After all, classes weren’t mainly assorted by age, more like the year the gods showed their cards that proved they were worthy of joining it. The age gap for a single class would be from one to three centuries max from the standard._

_The time Hunk had heard those words from the Norse god, was after a certain physical training class. Needless to say, kids their age wouldn’t get to engage in fighting class, at least not with weapons, and instead, they’d play games or do many light exercises to get their bodies ready for the following years of fighting class._

_Hunk didn’t even have any idea those words were meant for him, before the Viking had said: -“Hey! I’m talking to you, big guy!”_

_Exhaling from his mouth deeply, Hunk let his shoulders slump before he turned around. –“Y… Yeah…?”_

_The Norse god stopped in front of him, with crossed arms, having some more kids behind him. –“Ugh, I can’t believe we lost because you!”_

_Hunk cringed at the aggression in the teen’s voice. -“Wha- But, but I didn’t do… anything…?”_

_-“Exactly!! Can’t even catch a ball! Can’t even run because of that_ fa _-“_

_-“Hey! Leave him alone, Vali! Go be a jerk somewhere else!”_

_The Viking instantly whipped his head to his right to see another kid marching towards them. Hunk blinked at what he was seeing. He was almost sure this Vali guy was about to start a fight, and yet here came this lanky kid marching over like if he was going to save the world. At least that was what it seemed like he wanted to do, regarding the intense look on his ocean blue eyes._

_When his eyes settled on the new kid in the scene, Vali growled, the fury in his lime green eyes turning wild. –“Must you always intervene, spear limbs??”_

_Ouch. What was wrong with this guy and taking jabs at other being’s appearances?_

_-“The name’s Lance!”- The new kid exclaimed as he stood right in front of the Viking, with curled fists on each side of him. –“And yes! I have! Because you’re always doing this! You’re always being a jerky-piss-face to everyone and_ that _has to_ stop _!”_

_-“By Odin, how DARE you!? Do you have ANY idea what I can d-!”_

_-“Vali!”_

_The third voice sounded a little distant, yet every kid in there winced at it. Turning around, they saw their teacher looking right at them, and just for Vali, making a gesture so the god would join him._

_-“I, I understand, Sir, but I-!”_

_-“No!”- Interrupted the teacher, cutting Vali off with no hesitation. –“Come here so we can talk.”_

_Growling, the young Viking looked over his shoulder again, towards the two gods who did not belong to his group. –“Watch yourself, child of Poseidon.”- He grumbled._

_This time, the Lance kid didn’t respond verbally, knowing better now that he knew the teacher was watching and he could also be threading a thin line. But he did cross his arms as he frowned, nodding up to the Viking as if that was a challenge he was accepting._

_When Vali and his goons turned around towards their teacher, the guarded expression Lance seemed to carry completely vanished, as he quickly turned his attention to Hunk. –“Dude, are you okay? Did they hurt you??”_

_Watching the concern on the other god’s eyes, Hunk felt like he could actually feel safe around this kid. –“… Only my feelings.”- He admitted, as he shyly glanced at the ground._

_Light seemed to spark on Lance’s face, as he excitedly placed his knuckles on his waist. –“Dad always says ‘chin up, warrior! Feelings won’t matter when you’re in the field of battle!’”_

_-“I don’t… I don’t think that’s right...”_

_Pursing his lips, Lance’s eyes widened as if that had been a revelation. After a while, he nodded, silently agreeing. –“Okay… That’s kinda… that’s… yeah, okay, but how about this! ‘We can’t let a bump defeat us! We have to rise up to our aggressors and show them we won’t let them win!’”_

_-“Also said by your dad?”_

_A confident grin appeared in Lance’s expression, as he crossed his arms. –“Nope! This was said by Commander Shirogane after his army’s first defeat.”- The way Lance’s eyes wandered to the skies above, with such a bright glint in them, made Hunk wonder if this commander was a sort of idol of his. The answer was probably affirmative._

_In the meantime, wearing a smile, Lance glanced back at Hunk and reached a hand towards him. –“Anyway… You probably already know I’m Lance – like, I said my name before and all ~ - and you are?”_

_Hunk eyed the hand outstretched towards him wearily before he peered at Lance’s friendly face. Somehow, he felt like he could trust this kid. So, with a smile mirroring his, Hunk shook his hand. –“I’m Hunk.”_

_-“Huh,”- Lance took his hand back, and gestured towards Hunk with it. –“I think it suits you.”_

_That made Hunk laugh. –“That’s what my mom says.”_

_-“Say, Hunk. I don’t know about you, but I think I just felt a connection between you and I.”- Lance said, gesturing between the two. –“So, that means you’re my friend now. Sorry, but I don’t make the rules.” – Almost conspiringly, Lance leaned forward, a hand hiding the side of his mouth as he whispered. –“Seriously, I tried, but Coran didn’t let me.”_

_Woah. Alright. Hunk wasn’t really sure if he should laugh or cry. He spent at least two weeks trying to befriend someone but he was also too shy to approach anyone. Had he known it had been this simple to befriend this one Lance kid in particular, he already would have done so._

_Yet, this felt, to Hunk, a little more special this way. There was an instant bond, there. One that Hunk had no idea would last for a long, long time._

Back in the present, Hunk sighed. He had evolved over the years. That fact was undeniable. He could stand up for himself and even more, for his friends. Yet, there was still this part of him that was always so wary of everything. So afraid. And he couldn’t be, not in a time like this. Not when the Underworld was somehow still heavy on their minds.

He needed to be the person Lance was to him the day they met to someone else when there was nobody left to do it. Being that standing up to a bully, or standing in between Underworld soldiers and innocents.

By his side, Lance leaned his head forward, peering over at Hunk’s face with a semi-shocked expression. –“Dude… Why’d you never tell me that??”

-“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?”

Lance shut his mouth as looked away and furrowed his eyebrows. –“Touché…”- He had faintly said, before he paused. A heartbeat passed as he looked up at Hunk again, with a sheepish, almost guilty smile. –“Feels like we haven’t been the greatest friends to each other lately, huh?”

That didn’t seem like it affected Hunk, as an easy-going smile appeared on his lips. -“Psh, that happens. Besides, I know how you get closed off when you get upset.”- He rubbed his own elbows. –“I feel like I always want to talk to you about it, but I also don’t want to pry, because I know you totally don’t react well to that. I mean, from what Pidge told me about that night, I know I’m not wrong, there.”

Hearing that, Lance lowered his eyebrows, and his tone of voice. –“I’m sorry about that-“

-“You don’t need to be, dude.”- Hunk immediately reassured.

-“I know.”- Lance smiled before looking away – and when he did, that smile faded. –“But I still am.”

Hunk glanced at his best friend, noticing how Lance’s eyes were trailed forward, towards their other friends. In the distance, Hunk could see Pidge had one of her index fingers extended, as she pressed it between her nose and upper lip. By her straight posture and eccentric gestures, he could tell she was imitating Coran. And whatever it was, it appeared to be pretty funny, because Keith seemed to be laughing so hard, he was slightly bending over, with a hand over his stomach the other on his knee.

Raising an eyebrow, Hunk peered back at Lance. Pidge had told him the entire argument, word by word. He knew about the Keith situation Pidge theorized about, but… Hunk couldn’t possibly bring it up. Not to Lance – not now, at least. He obviously seemed upset.

-“Kay’, that’s fine.”- Hunk said out of the thin air, which gained Lance’s attention back. –“But, you know, if you ever need to talk…”

-“You’re there.”- Lance cared to complete, with a soft voice and equally soft expression.

Hunk nodded. –“I’m here.”- Suddenly, his eyes blew wide. –“Oh! By the way, _oh gods_ , I almost _forgot about this_ – So, I talked to dad about your weapon…”

It was like a switch being flicked, because Lance’s grey mood immediately perked up with eagerness. He kicked himself away from the wall as he faced Hunk. –“What did he tell you??”

Hunk simply shrugged. –“Apparently, he knew about the shifting. But he said he didn’t correct it because he felt like, if your bow shifted form while he was forging, it meant it was a ‘necessary transformation for you’ or something.”

-“Huh…”- With his mouth slightly hanging open, Lance glanced to the side as he furrowed his eyebrows. –“Why a sword, though? I can’t even swing one right.”

-“Not sure. He didn’t talk about that.”

Seeming pensive, Lance hummed. He stayed still, thinking for at least five seconds more before he looked up at Hunk with a smile. –“Thanks anyway, man.”

-“Hey, you know I’m always there for you, buddy.”

Lance huffed, looking at Hunk’s expression, because he could tell he was already fighting against the tears. -“Me, too.”

Just like that, with wobbly eyes – of course they were always there, in Hunk’s look, when any emotional exchange would be made – Hunk pushed himself off the wall and opened his arms wide. Lance didn’t even hesitate a second before he launched himself into the hug and melted into it.

It was in that moment Lance noticed how he really, really had been needing a hug. His head was brewing a storm so big, he barely was managing to keep his boat afloat. But in times like this, with his friend’s warm graces, Lance knew he wouldn’t be alone against the tides.

 

 

…

 

 

In one of their late afternoon classes, Shiro had Keith trying to work on his emotional control, attempting to teach him methods to find peace deep within himself. And perhaps Shiro couldn’t be one to talk – it was so difficult for him to find his own peace inside his being, but alas, he couldn’t just do nothing and watch his disciple struggle because of a childhood and adolescence filled with repressed emotions.

So, he chose a great place in the palace itself to lead his lessons. It was a standalone balcony, by the gardens, overlooking the calm sea. On each vertex, there was a column. And by each column, white, semi-translucid curtains draped downward into the floor, or some went from a column to the other.

The greenery around them gave them a nice shade from the sun, and a pleasant sound of rustling leaves. The colorful pillows and carpets laid on the floors provided extra comfort for them. They were even far enough from the academy that they didn’t hear a single voice.

Yet… Before him, Keith was sitting in an odd posture – strict. And Shiro had told him at least seven times the last twenty minutes to relax. This couldn’t just be the inherited nerves from living in the Underworld acting up. There was something else.

 -“… You’re not focused.”- Shiro ended up commenting.

Almost as if he knew he wasn’t already, Keith let out a long sigh as he opened his eyes and cast them low on his lap. Over his crossed legs, Shiro’s familiar slumbered, seeming undisturbed towards the world – unlike his waking self. Perhaps out of instinct more than anything – he just needed to do something with his hands – Keith began to gently pet the tiny dragon.

-“Sorry about that…”- He quietly mumbled, not looking up at Shiro.

-“Is there something on your mind?”

That had Keith stopping his gentle strokes down the dragon’s spine for a millisecond, before the young god glanced to his left, with a guarded expression. He seemed to be contemplating something. Shiro had learned that this little scowl Keith now had on his face was actually his thinking face.

After a while, Keith spoke up, hesitantly. –“How do you… How do you approach someone you don’t understand, or don’t know how to approach?”

With furrowed eyebrows Shiro hummed, as he placed his hand by his chin. It didn’t take long until he came up with a guess. –“Is this about that one classmate…?”

The expression on Keith’s face hardened. –“Maybe…”- He grumbled.

-“You still haven’t talked to him?”- Tiredly, Shiro sighed, as he let his head slightly fall. –“Keith, the more you put off a problem to resolve, the worse it gets.”

Unfazed, Keith placed his left shoulder on his thigh and leaned his head on his palm. –“Bold of you to assume I know how to deal with problems.”

Facing the deadpanned expression and voice, Shiro huffed. –“Heh, that one’s new.”

A little bit of a glow seemed to appear in Keith’s eyes, even though he wasn’t smiling. –“Thanks, Pidge taught me that one.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed – just for a tiny second – at the mention of that name.

Clicking his tongue, Keith shook his head. –“Doesn’t matter. Just,”- He glanced away again, as if he didn’t want to face Shiro – or anyone – while talking about this topic. –“how do you think I should go about this?”

-“You know when you’re being honest with me? Try that.”

Keith scoffed, as he leaned himself up and crossed his arms. –“You can’t be honest with Lance, he’ll turn it into a _joke_.”

That had Shiro raise an eyebrow at him. –“Have you tried to?”

Regarding the question, Keith hesitated. He stared at Shiro for at least two seconds before he snapped his gaze towards the floor by his left and glared at it, as if it were his enemy. Finally, reluctantly, Keith shook his head.

Smiling, Shiro shook his, for a different reason. –“I don’t know who this ‘Lance’ is, but I don’t think he’s that bad of a person as you’re making him sound like. I mean, if he was, I don’t think you would be thinking about talking to him in the first place.”

Keith remained quiet, but Shiro saw the pensive, defeated tone in his low casted eyes.

So, Shiro opted for another approach. -“Why do you want to resolve things with him?”

His disciple shrugged. –“He’s part of the group.”

That mumble did not convince Shiro one bit. –“That’s all?”

-“… I’m not… I’m not sure…”

This god… He was a mystery to Keith, even a little more than any other gods – which was a given, considering Keith had a hard time understanding others, sometimes, because of how many years he spent alone. If Keith was going to be honest, he wasn’t even sure why he should be caring about this. He wasn’t one to.

However, when he came into the Overworld, he started to feel almost like he wanted this – the concept of friendship Pidge tried to introduce to him.

Yet, Lance seemed like he didn’t want anything to do with Keith other than teasing, which was infuriating. Keith would never be the one to try to initiate something with anybody but… He didn’t know how to describe this feeling that kept lingering in the back of his mind, urging him to approach the child of the oceans.

It was a strange pull, one that almost wasn’t there. It felt almost like… a force, that managed to annoy him enough to will him to think about it. He wasn’t sure what to call it. He wasn’t sure if he should be listening to it, but he knew ignoring it would be impossible. So, best just resolve it.

In the meantime, Shiro observed the storm that brewed in his student’s gaze, and expression. Keith’s mind was probably a tornado right now, if Shiro were to take in the intense look in his eyes.

So, Shiro decided to cut him some slack. –“Patience yields focus, Keith.”- As he spoke, his disciple peered at him, with a semi-bewildered look. –“You won’t be able to handle this with impatience. You’ll have to be paying attention to everything he says, and you’ll have to try to understand it.”- He tilted his head. –“ _That’s_ my advice.”

Keith’s eyebrows creased as he looked down, but he soon let his expression soften, with understanding. -“Hmm…”

Just after Keith’s faint response, a dull knock on stone caught their attention.

While Keith had to look over his shoulder, Shiro simply needed to look beyond Keith to see the new presence in the scene. To their surprise, their new company was wearing a casual white dress, and had her white hair styled in braids that she had then tied into a ponytail.

It only took a second for a light welcoming smile to caress Shiro’s face. –“Your Highness! It’s good to see you back.”

Returning the smile, Allura stepped into the room. -“I do hope I am not interrupting anything.”

As she spoke, she was already gathering a pillow from the pile of them to the left, dragged it towards the center of the room, and placed by the other two gods, facing both. She, then proceeded to sit down on it as Shiro began to speak.

-“No, not at all.”- As he watched the queen, he pointed a hand towards his disciple. –“Keith and I were just talking about…”- Hesitating a little, Shiro glanced at Keith, and noticed the subtle wide-eyed look of panic in his student’s eyes. –“About… _truces_.”

At that moment, Keith seemed to relax. Shiro wasn’t sure why that subject of his classmate was such a big deal, but hey, he wasn’t going to embarrass the kid in front of someone he had to prove himself to.

Regarding Shiro’s announcement, Allura hummed. –“Truces. Sounds fitting for the information I am about to tell you.”

That had been the switch that flicked Shiro’s expression to turn serious. –“Is this about the meeting?”

-“Yes.”- Just as she spoke, Allura peered at Keith. –“In three days, we will have a few diplomats from a few realms come over to discuss diplomacy. The Underworld will send one of theirs, though your presence is also required. Do you feel ready for that?”

Slightly gaping, Keith glanced from Allura to Shiro. –“… Uhh-“

-“He’s nervous,”- Shiro helpfully supplied. –“but he’ll be ready.”

The queen nodded towards Shiro before she looked back towards the younger god. –“There is no pressure for you to speak up, if you were wondering. You simply need to be there and listen.”

That seemed to visually allow Keith to relax more. -“Oh, okay. That’s, that’s actually better.”

With a smile on his lips, Shiro crossed his arms. -“Yeah, it is better that way. He’s still got a few things to learn.”

Returning the smile, Allura nodded, acknowledging said statement, before she started to get up. –“I expect everything to run smoothly, then. Now,”- Already up, she clasped her hands. –“I must go.”

With no hesitation, that was the moment Shiro decided to get up as well. –“Your Highness, one last thing.”- Seeing the obvious concern in his gaze, Allura nodded at him to elaborate. –“Have you… talked to Coran?”

-“Oh, yes. He has told me everything, and he told me about you, and how you both managed to clear his head for a while.”- Fidgeting with her hands, she directed her gaze towards the floor. –“I’m not sure how to thank you…”

-“There’s no need. But… If there’s anything you need help with, we’re here to help, too.”- With a kind smile, he glanced at his disciple. –“Right, Keith?”

His student was already petting Slav again, and faced with the question, Keith glanced up, looking almost confused. Yet, he still shyly responded: –“… Yeah.”

Smiling brightly, the queen glanced from him to Shiro. –“I’m glad to hear.”

 

 

…

 

 

One afternoon, in fighting class, it was probably most students’ favorite day: They could choose what they wanted to do, and with who they wanted to do that exercise with. That, of course, meant that in the first ten minutes, the students would actually be focused on their activities, but since they were doing them with friends, they’d start to slack off any minute. Some of them were even chatting instead of working. And this day, the teacher was fine with that.

In one corner of the colossal arena, the trio and Keith were taking up a place, one they set up themselves. This time, the little course was filled with moving wooden targets, ones that were not moving through the help of a mechanism, but by Pidge herself, who gestured towards the moving targets as if they were marionettes.

Lastly, in the middle of the obstacle course, Lance was already out there wearing his full armor as he nocked an ice arrow on his bow. With a grin on his face, he sprinted across the little obstacle course with ease. His eyes would detect any sudden movement in a millisecond, and it took just another for him to aim and let go of his arrow.

Even while running, he managed to calculate where the next target would move to, and he’d aim his arrow towards the exact spot. He twisted and turned and jumped in the air when he needed to, and never once had he not hit his target.

As he was finishing it, Lance ran up to a log that was across his way, jumped over it and in midair, he aimed and shot and arrow right into last target. As his feet hit the ground, the arrow hit the dead center of its target.

Knowing what he did, Lance felt a huge grin taking over his face as he panted and willed himself to stand up from his semi-crouched landing position. Pride swelled up his chest regarding his performance, as well as when he looked up towards the first rows of the amphitheater and saw the expressions on his audience’s features.

Sitting by the half-wall, with her palms still pointing towards the obstacle course, Pidge felt a ray of light pass by her glasses’ lenses, as a grin slowly let itself built up in her lips. At the same time, two rows higher from her, Hunk let out a loud cheer of ‘ _yeah, go Lance_!’ before he whistled.

By Pidge’s right, standing, Keith was actually the only one who still wore a completely blown-away expression.

-“ _What in the Underworld_ …”- He softly exhaled, with feeling. –“Where did _this_ come from?!”

The moment he spoke, Lance observed him with amusement in his features, as he dusted off his hands. At the same time, Pidge was already moving the targets out of the course and replacing them with dummies, and now, it was visible she was doing that with the help of little vines that were crawling on the ground – her father’s side, nature.

-“He’s probably the greatest shot the whole Greek world has ever seen after Artemis and Apollo.”- Pidge had supplied while she was working, just sparing a little glance at Keith for a second. –“But _that’s_ just when he’s out of danger, because if he’s not, he stresses out.”

So… that was a thing.

Keith pretty much knew he still looked blown away. It was hard to hide it in his features, and perhaps he would regret it – considering the amusement in Lance’s face towards his reaction – but hey, he had to admit it, it was impressive.

Much more than the time Lance faced Vali. There had been a difference, too. Perhaps it was the type of audience, as all eyes were on him before, but Lance back then had moved nervously, looking like each step he had taken had been overthought. He didn’t look like a natural as he’d nock an arrow in his bow as his whole body trembled, and tried to take aim.

This Lance had been different. There were no nerves, probably because there were only three gods watching him – nothing to prove. Because of that, his movements were as fluid as water itself, as he almost elegantly soared through the course.

Maybe Keith shouldn’t have been surprised at all, now, considering those facts. Impressed, maybe he’d still be. After all, for someone who couldn’t aim straight to save his life, seeing such flawless performance with a bow was… something else.

Still in the same spot he was before, Lance raised his eyebrow at his tiny friend. –“Pft.”- Easily, he leaned his left forearm above his head on a wooden target to his right, having his other hand on his hip. –“ _Even_ when I’m nervous, I make both Artemis and Apollo proud.”

With a smirk, and a swish of her hand, Pidge made the target Lance was leaning against move away.

Reacting to it, Lance let out a _totally manly_ panicked scream as he lost his balance and almost fell, but he managed to steady himself after flapping with his arms around to regain balance. Once with both feet on the ground, Lance grumpily crossed his arms as he glared at Pidge, only to see the gremlin child smirking at his misery.

-“ _And_ he’s not so great with balance sometimes, either.”- Hunk cared to add, with a teasing grin of his own.

Hunching his shoulders, Lance blew a bit of air from his mouth towards some of his short strands over his forehead – which had little to no effect over them whatsoever. –“ _Woah_ , you guys are _so_ supportive sometimes… Really, you shouldn’t have.”

-“I, I literally compared you to Artemis and Apollo…”

Hunk nodded, agreeing with Pidge’s statement. –“Buddy, we support you one hundred percent, and you totally should know this. We’re proud of you. But we gotta be real with you, too.”

For a second, Lance seemed hesitant, pensive, before he tilted his head, pursed his lips and shrugged, accepting the commentary.

It was then that he decided to get out of the arena as he walked towards the front rows and swung himself over the half-wall. Just as he did so, he heard the last ruffling noise from behind him, as Pidge ended setting up the next course.

-“And now,”- She started, as she glanced to her right. –“it’s Keith’s turn.”- Hunk cheered in the background.

Hearing the announcement, just as Lance stopped by his right and crossed his arms as he observed the Underworld’s god, Keith peered to his left, towards Pidge, wearing a surprised tone.

–“Wait, me?”

He heard the clicking of a tongue to his right. –“Aww, are you _scared_ of embarrassing yourself after my flawless performance?”

Crossing his arms, Keith peered at Lance as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. –“May I remind you how you almost fell?”

Lance’s eyebrows shot upwards as his eyes widened. –“I- You- _Mind yo’ business, Keith!”_

Keith smirked as Lance hunched his shoulders and looked away, but only for a second before he heard Hunk call out a: -“Ohh, good one, Lance!”- Which made Lance smile.

-“Whatever.”- Grumbled Keith. –“Fine, I’ll go in.”

And so, he did.

When Pidge told him to start, Keith noticed the targets were replaced with dummies. Which was good, because he was not shooting anything. Instead, he called upon his sword, and practically flew through the obstacle course.

He twisted and twirled when he needed to, ducking, avoiding the dummies’ strikes from their dull swords. Holding his sword down, he swiped upward on a dummy’s chest, taking it out of commission. He approached another, jumping backwards towards it, and sunk his blade on its soft potato bag belly.

It all happened so fast, with a brusque elegance, a mixture of a warrior fighting, and an assassin. One that shouldn’t work, but it did with him.

When he finished by throwing his sword right into a dummy’ head, he hunched over slightly, panting for two or three seconds, before he stood upright and gestured towards his sword, making it vanish in a cloud of dark smoke.

On the other side of the arena’s grounds, his audience observed him with just as much marvel as he, Pidge and Hunk had watched Lance’s performance.

-“Woah…”- Hunk had practically breathed his word, with an obvious wonder in his voice – one that was mirrored in his features. –“Okay…”

In the meantime, the surprise in Pidge’s face morphed into a grin, almost mischievous, as she curled her fist and brought it down towards herself. –“That… _was awesome_!!”

A rare, soft little smile caressed Keith’s face as he looked up at them and crossed his arms. –“You think so?”

-“Heck yeah!”

To her side, Lance was still staring at him with some sort of look in his wide eyes, before he shook his head and his usual demeanor was back. –“Tsc, yeah, it was okay.” – He mused, with a sort of teasing grin, as he allowed his eyes to look away. –“Nothing compared to my performance, though. Obviously.”

Responding to that, Keith just rolled his eyes, glancing away. –“Right… Obviously.”

In the meantime, Hunk had gotten up and climbed down the rows until he was by his friends on the other side of the wall. –“In all honesty, though? I think everybody did great – including Pidge who, even though didn’t get in there, made awesome obstacle courses for us.”

Such reassuring speech made both Lance and Pidge let out heartfelt ‘awws’ in unison, and even Keith smiled softly at him, with a spark in his eyes.

-“Hunk,”- With a hand over his heart, Lance began. –“you’re the best.”

-“Too pure for this world.”- Pidge shimmied in.

-“A true cinnamon roll.~~”

-“Okay,”- Keith called out, from the arena, slowly. –“I have _no idea_ what’s going on right now.”

That urged laughs to erupt from the trio.

In the end, they heard a shrill whistle raging through the air, and when they glanced to the distance in the arena, they saw their teacher waving them off, meaning the class was over and it was time to tidy up.

Looking back down at Keith, Pidge genuinely smiled. –“Remind me to explain it to you later.”

Returning the smile, Keith nodded.

Just like that, they rushed to do some cleaning up – to place all the material they used in the storage spots. Keith watched as Hunk effortlessly carried a large log on his arms, and saw a bunch of dummies move with the help of tiny vines as Pidge ran by him with her palms reaching forward.

Right then, Keith glanced to his left, and felt Lance passing by him, in the way to collect something to help out as well.

_Keith, the more you put off a problem to resolve, the worse it gets._

Closing his eyes, he took in Shiro’s faint voice in his mind, and there was a switch right there, just for one or two seconds, in which he didn’t even think about it. Keith just impulsively reacted as Lance passed by him, and…

-“… Hey, Lance?”

Already many steps beyond him, Lance stopped at the call for his name. A heartbeat passed as Lance stood still, a moment that quickly vanished, as he half-way turned around and took in Keith with an arching eyebrow.

Oh boy, Keith was already regretting this. Maybe this wasn’t the time. Maybe he was going to mess everything up. Maybe he needed to wait more. For a sign that he was okay to go. And that sign probably would never appear because Keith was _totally_ gonna mess things up and-

His raging thoughts were rudely interrupted as Lance cleared his throat, to get his attention. Oh gods, did he really just take too long and was just staring? Keith really was bad at this, wasn’t he? He should at least say something.

-“Uhh… Can we… talk?”

Taking in the question, Lance peered to the arena in front of him, where the other students were already gathering things to tidy up, but only for a millisecond. It was with what seemed to be hesitation that Lance glanced back at him and decided to fully turn around, as he walked towards Keith.

-“Wanting to talk, huh?” – With a teasing expression that was _so Lance_ , the child of Poseidon crossed his arms. –“Did you pull me aside just so you can privately tell me how amazing my performance was? Because hey, I understand it, you’d probably feel embarrassed to admit that in front of the others.”- He finished, as he pointed a finger to his back, where Hunk and Pidge were generally by.

Regarding the, let’s say, smug tone coming from the child of the oceans, Keith grumpily huffed. –“This is serious.”

That made Lance raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him, as he uncrossed his arms and held his hand by his waist instead. –“Everything always has to be so serious with you, huh?”

-“Ah- I- Of course it has!”- Lance rolled his eyes at the protest, which only irked Keith more. –“Whatever.”- Keith grumbled. –“Can I explain myself, now?”

-“No one’s stopping you, man.”- Lance nodded at him. –“Go ahead.”

Trying to ease his racing mind, Keith took a long, deep breath. He knew if he wanted to get to the point of this, and resolve whatever it was that was badly influencing his relationship with this god in particular, they had to have this talk. After all, Lance had been the only god in the Overworld Keith hadn’t have any sort of honest exchange about their situation with.

Of course, that Lance being _Lance_ wasn’t going to make this situation any easier…

As he exhaled, Keith crossed his arms as he lowered his head. –“I’m not great at this, so bear with me.”

When he looked up, after speaking, he noticed that Lance was biting his lip as he gazed to the side, as if he was stopping himself to blurt out something. That got Keith to strangely crease his eyebrows.

-“What?”

Faced with the sudden question, Lance blinked as he looked back towards Keith – but only for a millisecond had he looked startled, because an easy-going grin took over his lips. –“I don’t know – ‘ _bear with me’_. Now I just imagined a bear sitting by your side and I can’t get the image out of my head. Heh, Keith and his bear companion. T’was just, it’s a cool expression.”

Keith eyed him with a deadpan expression and held it for some solid three seconds before he closed his eyes as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Honestly, he already probably looked tired of this.

-“Okay. So…”- Keith brought down the hand he had on his forehead as he looked up, letting it rest atop of his other arm that was folded over his chest. –“I can’t stop thinking that there’s something between us… that’s going horribly wrong.”

-“Gee, I wouldn’t say ‘ _horribly_ ’-“

-“And it feels like… like I want to know why.”

Still with a smirk on his face, Lance lifted an eyebrow at that, as he folded his arms. –“And let me guess: you need _my_ help to figure that out?”

Regarding the smug guess, Keith deeply frowned. –“No!”- He shut his mouth in a thin line as he glanced away, hesitating for a moment, before he gave in. –“…Yes. I mean, I want to know your position on this.”- He nodded at the child of the oceans. –“So I can understand it and try to fix it.”

With an eyebrow still raised and a crooked downward quirk on his lips, Lance stared at him for a second before he briefly glanced up, towards the sky. -“What makes you think there’s anything to fix?”

Mild irritation began to seem apparent on Keith’s face. –“Are you kidding me? You obviously can’t stand me.”

-“And _you_ can’t stand _me_.”- As Lance’s almost icy eyes feel back on his, Keith’s before creased furrow lessened, as an astonished expression took over his features. –“Have you ever considered going back to look through every single thing you’ve ever done or said?”

-“Wh- _I have_! That’s why I’m _here_!”- Inhaling through gritted teeth, Keith tilted his head, looking to his left rather than at the other god. –“Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

Lance scoffed at the pitiful mumble. –“Wow…”- He mused, with a half-hearted teasing smile. –“ _that_ was the single most sincere apology I’ve ever heard in my life.”

That willed a groan out of Keith, as he looked back at Lance to steel him with a glare. –“Can you _stop that_??”

-“Stop what?”

-“This!!”- Exclaimed Keith, as he exasperatedly gestured with extended arms towards the other god. –“This thing you’re doing when you obviously aren’t taking me seriously! I’m trying to be honest with you,”- He leaned forward, and with a sharp scowl in his face, he brusquely gestured with his finger towards the ground. –“but all you’re doing is making _a joke out of this_!!”

The last part of Keith’s outburst had almost been a rough scream, one that leaked fury through its cracks. And such thing had startled both of them.

Lance’s reaction had been to wince at the tone and the aggression behind it that had been fueling it. He seemed to hold his folded arms a little bit more and didn’t hesitate to look away with a cold frown.

In the meantime, realizing how his tone must have sounded, and seeing the reaction his outburst had gotten out of the other god, Keith felt a coldness settle in his burning state. One feeling he was very familiar with – Regret. Guilt.

This wasn’t the way he should be going about things. He couldn’t lose his cool. He had to be patient, that was _the thing_ Shiro had emphasized the most, and _yet_ , here he was, spewing flames out of his mouth as if he was a literal dragon. This couldn’t help this situation at all.

Keith slowly closed his eyes then, trying to regain control of his thoughts. Remembering some tips from Shiro about calming down, he took in a deep breath, feeling his chest rise and lower. It wasn’t long until he opened his eyes again, and feeling almost surprised that Lance was still standing before him, Keith thought it was only fitting for him to speak up.

-“I’m, I’m so – so sorry, this… This isn’t what I wanted to say at all.”- The softness in his quiet yet panicked voice had captured Lance’s attention again – even though the attention only made him stumble over his words more. –“ I mean… I…”- Not being able to find the right words to start his sentence, Keith let out a hybrid of a sigh and a groan, as he dramatically placed both hands on each side of his head and looked to the ground. –“Why am I so _awful_ at this?!”

Given the show before him, Lance’s eyes flickered from Keith to various parts of the scenery behind the other god, before they settled back on Keith, who was leaning down, with his hands still on the sides of his head, as he muttered something along the lines of ‘ _being useless’_ and about how someone would be _so disappointed_ in him.

And Lance… his before wide-eyed look morphed into something confused – confused to see someone who seemed sure of himself as Keith to have a mild breakdown right in front of him. To Lance, part of his instincts made him want to step up and offer some nice words to the god but… It was _Keith_ , who was doing a very ‘ _un-Keithy’_ thing.

Lance couldn’t help it, he felt himself fighting against it, but accepting the lost battle against his every instinct, he let laugher irrupt from his mouth.

Hearing the laughs, Keith stopped the string of curses he had been muttering under his breath to look at the other god. Surprise was evident on his features, but more so exasperation.

-“What’s so funny about this??”

While still laughing, Lance held his palm at him and waved it. His eyes completely closed as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips.

-“It’s just-“- Lance cut himself off to laugh a little more. –“Oh, man.”- Still chuckling, Lance held his waist with his left hand, as he wiped a tear away with his right index finger. –“It’s just that, all this time I saw you like – ‘ _Akira – the great champion of the Underworld’_!”- Lance made sure to make his best ‘announcer’ voice as he said the title. –“Nothing can faze you. Nothing can beat you. And now,”- A small laugh escaped his lips. –“and now you just come up to me, and you’-, you’re like the single, most awkward dork I’ve ever met…”

Keith had been watching him with a wide look, and once Lance finished explaining himself, Keith glanced away. -“I… I don’t know if I should feel flattered or insulted.”- He mumbled.

With a grin caressing his lips, Lance shook his head. –“I can’t believe this. And to think I almost felt threatened by you…”- He mused, as he tilted his head to the side.

It was in that moment Keith peered back at him, feeling his mood lighten, like if a switch had been flickered. He gazed at the other god with a light smirk, as he lifted a teasing eyebrow. –“ _Oh_?”

-“Psh, I said ‘almost’, don’t give yourself that much credit.”

Wearing a sly grin, Keith peered to the side. –“Right… Seriously, though,”- As he glanced back at Lance, Keith felt his expression shift to something somber. –“why did you feel like that…?”

That had been the question that shifted Lance’s demeanor. Facing it, Lance slowly lost his grin, as his expression fell. He took some moments in silence, and when he deeply exhaled him his nose, he moved past Keith.

Keith’s curious gaze followed him as Lance made his way towards a stack of crates of all shapes and sizes that was still there from the obstacle course. Lance went ahead and took the liberty to sit on a small one. He leaned forward as Keith walked towards him, and when the other god reached him, Lance knew an answer was due.

With a distant gaze, as Lance was looking forward, he started to speak, in a tone so quiet, he didn’t even know Keith would hear him properly. -“I don’t know… It’s like…”

Lance deliberately stopped when he heard rustling to his left. Peering at it, he saw that Keith was taking a seat on a crate that was a little bit higher than his – Keith had his right leg over the crate’s surface, only leaving the bottom part of it hanging off, and the other one was firmly on the ground working as a support.

His expression, it wasn’t one Lance was expecting to see – It was open, a sign that he was willing to listen.

Feeling the encouragement, Lance gazed back forward, and continued. –“I always tried my hardest… to be the god my father wanted me to be. If you ever met Poseidon, you know he’s all about business…”

-“Yeah, I noticed that.”- Keith’s rough yet quiet tone had been a surprise. –“The first day I was here, he was one of the gods to judge me.”

That made Lance let out a bitter chuckle. –“So that’s why he was here…”- Grimacing, he shook his head. –“Anyway… He always, he always encouraged me to be the best warrior I could ever be. But I… couldn’t do it. I never could. No matter how hard I worked.”

Lance turned one of his hands around so he could look at his palm – one that was almost hidden by his curled fingers.

-“I remember one day, he put a sword in my hands and told me I had to learn how to use it. When I told him I was great with the bow, he scoffed and shrugged it off. Said it wasn’t a real weapon… Halfway through the lesson, I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much for me.”- With a crease on his forehead, Lance curled his hand – the one he was observing – into a fist. –“You know what he said to me? That I was basically _worthless_.”

Lance paused to close his eyes, knowing if he kept them open for too long, a sea would dare leaking from them. –“I… wasn’t able to pick up a sword ever since.”

With a tentative expression on his features, Keith crossed his arms. –“I can’t imagine how tough it must have been for you when your bow turned into one.”

-“You have no idea.”- Lance made a mild gesture of throwing something invisible behind his shoulder. –“I just wanted to get rid of it. And Pidge and Hunk, they, they don’t know about this… So, they tried to help but all in the wrong ways.”

-“Why didn’t you tell them?”- Keith wondered, with a softness on his voice equivalent to the one on his look. –“Aren’t they your friends?”

That willed Lance to take a heavy breath before continuing. –“Sometimes, it’s hard to touch all of these memories again… Just by doing so right now is taking a toll on me. But I needed to get this out of my chest, just so you can understand.”

It was with a mild feeling of guilt that Keith empathetically lowered his eyebrows. He knew a thing or two about repressing memories that hurt him – occasions during his training, words from other Galra, near-death experiences in the Forest of the Dead as a pre-teen… Yeah, he could understand why Lance wouldn’t like to talk about it.

And just the fact that he was willingly dragging those memories out of the closet to, to explain this situation to Keith…

It was in the right time Keith had noticed he was now reaching out with his hand towards the other god’s shoulder. But he hesitated, just as his hand hovered a palm above Lance’s shoulder – and he couldn’t help it but to take it back to himself. The sudden contact, no matter how he was feeling empathetic, felt _wrong_.

After all, Lance was basically a stranger to him. And he couldn’t just trust a stranger in such level that he’d initiate physical contact with them. In the Underworld, that had only been either when necessary – mostly due to aggression – or when shared between two entities with a significant bond – whatever bond that might be.

Having that in mind, Keith decided to use his voice instead. -“… I appreciate that.”

That willed Lance to look up at him, and for a millisecond, a ghost of a smile had been haunting his lips – one that felt like a mix of thankfulness and sadness. However, that did not last long, as Lance peered back down and focused his sight on his fidgeting hands.

-“So, now you know the context.”- Lance continued. –“And, until now, I felt like that was okay. Like I didn’t need to be who my father wanted me to be. I could still be a crazy good archer and still kick butt! Of course, I wasn’t a Vali, but I know I could help somehow. I was okay with my role… Well, most of the time.”

-“And then the sword showed up, and it all came crashing down on me. I almost died with or without it. Then, my father’s words came back to my mind: ‘ _A true warrior doesn’t cower and hide behind the masses as if they were their armor’_. And for a moment… I thought he was right. I thought I was an idiot for giving up sword fighting.”

Bitterly huffing, Lance felt his eyebrows creasing. –“And who showed up and knew exactly how to use a sword?”- He peered to his left. –“ _You_.”

He observed the look in Keith’s eyes and read it in an instant: Keith still wasn’t connecting the dots. He looked confused, but also attentive – which _hey_ , it was something. So, Lance cared to connect the dots himself.

-“I almost died against Vali. You? You literally _crushed_ him. You turned the academy upside-down and you had everybody talking about you like if you were either a hero or a fearsome villain. And me?”- A spiteful expression took over his before melancholic features. –“I was the _joke_ who tried so hard and still couldn’t achieve anything.”

Keith strangely frowned at that. –“Wait… what are you saying?”

A deep exhale left Lance’s nose, as he felt his teeth clench and his eyebrows twitch in a way that he didn’t want them to. –“I’m saying… I felt like…”- His wobbly voice broke at that exact moment, as tears started to gather on the sea storm that were his eyes. Surprisingly, Lance kept going. –“Like… I wanted to be _you_. Just so… maybe I could be taken seriously for once… To make my,”- A sniffle. –“my father _proud_.”- Just as he spoke, Lance felt a sob escape him as all those repressed feelings came crashing down on him.

Watching the child of the oceans rub at his streaming eyes with his knuckles, sniffling as he did so, Keith felt his chest flooding with empathy. And he wasn’t great at comforting others, he was aware of that, but at that moment, there was nobody else to comfort Lance – and gods, he needed it.

So, with a little bit of impulsiveness, Keith reached out and this time, he let his hand fall on Lance’s shaking shoulder.

He had done it. Initiated physical contact _willingly_. With a stranger, no less. Well, less a stranger now that Lance had just let out some skeletons from his closet to walk out for the world to see – or just Keith, for some reason. Still, no matter the weird, sort of bond that this moment was creating, Keith still cringed regarding the contact, even if it had been with just a shoulder pad.

Lance hadn’t reacted to it, though, but Keith did suspect that his sobbing increased at that moment because of the sudden gesture of – could Keith call his empathy ‘affection’?

-“Lance…”- Keith’s voice was almost inaudible as he held the other god’s shoulder with a gentle, and yet awkward touch. –“You don’t want to be like me…”

He watched Lance for a reaction, but he didn’t notice any other than the sobbing wavering. Knowing he wasn’t getting an answer any time soon, Keith decided to continue speaking his heart into existence. Perhaps that had been a bad decision, considering everything he ever knew about sentimentality – that feelings were a weakness that could be used as an Achille’s heel.

Yet… in that moment, Keith somehow didn’t care. His heart spoke louder.

-“Yeah, sure, I’m a good fighter. But what else is there?”- He finally let go of Lance’s shoulder and put his hand on his lap. –“I spent most of my days in arenas, training, and when I didn’t, I ran away from everyone. And now everything’s changing. I feel so confused _all the time_. It’s scary… And the only way I’ve ever learned to deal with anything was to either avoid it or to fight. But I can’t fight here, and I’m learning that I can’t avoid things, either…”

Glancing forward, he furrowed his eyebrows. –“And Shiro is trying his best to teach me but… It’s still so _overwhelming_. To learn about all these social norms, and, and all these _things_ about history and morality and…”- He sighed. –“I’m getting to this point where I’m starting to question everything I’ve _ever known_. And it feels… lonely. More than I’ve ever felt because, at least before, I knew what I was up against, and now I feel like I don’t even know what is _the truth_.”

He hadn’t noticed when it had happened, but when Keith’s ramble was over, he wasn’t hearing sobs anymore. Looking to his right, he was met with Lance’s own bewildered gaze, as he still sniffled every few seconds.

-“Woah…”- Lance breathed out. –“I… I didn’t know you felt like that.”

-“Huh.”- Leaning back, Keith crossed his arms as he nodded forward. –“What’s this thing Shiro told me this one class… The grass always looks… cleaner on the other side?”

A brief chuckle escaped Lance’s throat. –“I think you meant greener. But yeah…”- His smile turned into a sheepish one as he watched the other god. –“I guess that’s relevant right now, huh?”

Keith simply hummed as a response to that. –“… I’m sorry I made you feel that way, though.”

-“Psh, you kidding me?”- Lance leaned back on his crate, and placed his forearm hanging on the surface of Keith’s own crate. A smile was on his face as he took in the baby blue sky above them – not a happy one, but not a sad one either. –“I’m the one who should be sorry. I projected my problems onto you so hard, I almost thought one day you’d tell me to _square up_ because of my antics.”

-“See, I’ll need you to be clearer with that. My first thought was how I had no idea how you’d turn into a square.”

Lance’s first reaction was to bark out a laugh. –“It means ‘to fight’.”

Enlightenment seemed to flare on Keith’s face as Lance observed him with amusement. –“ _Ooh_ … Okay, but _that’s_ a weird saying.”

Chuckling a little more, Lance shrugged. –“A little.”

Keith just hummed in agreement, allowing a lull to take over their conversation, as they found themselves overlooking the sky – the clouds that day were few, and were stretched across the baby blue alike cotton being gently torn apart.

-“So,”- Lance started after a small while. –“that’s all?”

The question willed Keith to glance down at him. –“I think so.”- As he quietly answered, a subtle, soft smile started to tug at the corners of his lips. –“Thanks for being honest with me.”

Lance took a deep breath before he pushed himself up. –“No problem, man. T’was cool talking to ya.”- Already up, Lance turned around to face Keith. –“Now, we should probably help out a bit,”- He pointed his thumb behind his shoulder. –“I think Hunk’s giving us some ‘ _looks_ ’ for slacking off.”

Curiously, Keith peered over Lance’s shoulder, just in the right time to spot Hunk squinting his eyes at them as he carried a bunch of dummies away.

-“Yeah. Yeah, we should probably go help.”

-“Be my guest.”

And so, Keith got up from his spot and both walking towards the arena.

Just some seconds after that, Lance sneakily reached a hand behind Keith’s back as the other god was distracted watching Pidge move things around with her vines, and poked Keith’s left shoulder with his index finger quickly before returning his hand to himself like a snap. Just like expected, Keith peered to the side he had felt the poking, and seeing nobody, he immediately glanced at Lance.

It was obvious he had put two and two together, as he had deadpanned a: -“Seriously…?”

And the utter lack of life in his voice willed Lance to laugh. –“I knew you’d fall for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the boys get to Talk. But this? This was just the very, Very beginning. Things aren't resolved between them, and a lot will happen down the line, but this is their beginning. And from now on, the story's gonna focus on them a lot. 
> 
> Next chapter will be out on October 18th, but since the chapter's gonna be split into two, and I'll only post the first part, I can't really give you a proper summary. But, we'll get more insight on the war and its origins, and we'll get some team building stuff.
> 
> Well, that's all for now! Find me on Tumblr as @SpaceFirebender


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